


Image Training

by Aviantei



Category: Hyouka & Kotenbu Series
Genre: But I promise it's not super angsty, Minor sequences of violence, Multi, Multiple third person POVs, Not so healthy emotional coping methods, Post-Canon, Talk about bullying, college days, inspired by a dream, ocxcanon, only a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 62,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: The bullies, the bullied, the heroes, and those that are running away. Will they become the people they're expected to be, or will they fall flat of their expectations? Attending university, Satoshi finds himself trying to deal with the consequences of his high school days alongside his classmates. [SatoshixOC]





	1. Tuesday, April 16

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on fanfiction.net between November 18, 2013 and August 10, 2019. It's one of the stories I recently wrapped up, despite all the challenges along the way. After a college friend showed me Hyouka, I fell in love instantly with Houtarou, but ultimately Satoshi really stood out to me as a character (I'm weak for cheerful characters who are also really good at lying, okay?). Not too long later, I had a dream that had a combination of original character sequences that I thought made a good launching point for a fic (much like the origins of Save State), and here we are!
> 
> The title was inspired by NICO Touches the Walls' song of the same name, though I didn't realize how well it fit the fic until much later.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Tuesday, April 16

* * *

“Come on, Tanae-san, please give it back,” Mukui Shinju asked quietly, looking up at his classmate with wide eyes. Tanae, sitting idly on the banister by the building’s entrance, flicked a coin up into the air, catching it without looking. Besides the fact that he wasn’t in a uniform, he looked the very part of the high school bully, bleached hair messy and a superior sneer on his face. Mukui winced, his eyes watching the flicker of silver as it streaked through the air, again and again. “Tanae-san… please be careful with that…”

“What for?” Tanae asked, his expression unfazed by Mukui’s protests. “It’s just a coin, right? What’s it matter? It’s only 100 yen anyway. It’s useless.” He faked tossing the coin across the courtyard, causing Mukui to whip his head around in panic. He only looked back once Tanae laughed and showed the coin in his palm. “Come on, man. I can’t even buy a soda with this…”

“Well, yes, but…” Mukui blushed a little beside himself. “It’s actually a good luck charm. I’ve had it for years, so if you’d please just give it back…” It took all the effort he had to look the other boy in the eyes as he made his request. Mukui recoiled as Tanae laughed again.

“Well if it got stolen it can’t be that lucky.” Mukui’s eyes shot down to the ground. “Sides, how can you even keep this one apart from any other 100 yen coin? At least put it on a string or something. Protect what’s valuable to you. I bet this isn’t even the same coin you thought was lucky in the first place!”

Mukui shifted on his feet, but didn’t move otherwise. He was powerless in a situation like this. While he had never been bullied before, it wasn’t a situation he was accustomed to dealing with. His nervousness throughout the day had made him an easy target. Not knowing what else to do, Mukui decided it would probably be better to agree with his oppressor.

“Aren’t you a little old for bullying?” a voice interrupted before Mukui could speak. Both males turned to look down the stairs in surprise.

“Huh?” Tanae was confused, his mouth hanging open. He seemed ready to say something but was too stunned by the sudden appearance of the third person to respond properly.

“Suzuki-san!” Mukui smiled at the girl. There was some sort of power in numbers that would be helpful here, right? Between the two of them, there should be something they could do to protect themselves. His elation lasted until Tanae shot a glare at him, not concerned that someone else had come to oppose him. “Suzuki-san, stay out of this, it’s fine…” Mukui muttered, disheartened.

“You heard the kid, Suzuki,” Tanae chimed in. “He doesn’t want you here, and neither do I. Besides, it’s none of your business anyway. The only people that should stick their heads into this are his friends and it’s not like he has any of those.” He snickered, amused by his own joke.

Suzuki frowned, her lips pursing together. “Well it’s true I’m not his friend,” she admitted. Mukui felt his spirits drop even lower. At the very least, he still hoped Suzuki wouldn’t just abandon him, even if it meant being bullied together. Despite his expectations, the girl didn’t walk away. “But I really can’t let this go. Mukui-san and I have a tutoring session to attend to and I hate wasting time. So just give him the coin back and go home, will ya? You’re in my way.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a better scenario than Mukui could have imagined. Or rather, it wasn’t the worst case scenario, which was enough. Even so, his nerves shook against each other while his classmates stared each other down. Tanae was annoyed, and Suzuki continued to glare daggers back in the male’s direction.

“Fine, fine,” Tanae relented with a heavy sigh. He flipped the coin over the tops of his fingers before tossing it back to its owner. Mukui was so shocked, he almost didn’t see it. After a few fumbling moments of almost dropping the coin, he was able to hold it in his hands and clutch it to his chest.

“Thank goodness…”

“I was getting bored anyway,” Tanae continued with far too much confidence to be beaten. He shoved his hands into his pockets, still smirking. “I don’t need a lame little toy like that. Not when I got this.”

Suzuki’s eyes widened before turning into a glare. Mukui tentatively followed her gaze back to Tanae’s hands. The taller boy had pulled something out of his pocket, holding it up in the air. Looking closer, it could be seen that the item was a purple wireless mouse. “That’s mine!” Suzuki shouted, more out of anger than desperation. “Give it back!”

Tanae chuckled and put the mouse back into his pocket. “Heh. You talk tough, Suzuki, but you’re no different from Mukui,” he said. “Well, besides from your volume levels. All you can do is complain when you’re at a disadvantage. It’s really sad just how many people are willing to just lay there and let the ‘bullies’ walk right over you. I expected better of you.”

“Like hell I will!” Suzuki shouted, her glare transferring into full-blown anger. She dropped her bag off her shoulders, and it made a loud _thump_ as it hit the ground. Leaving it behind, Suzuki started to make her way up the stairs. Even though she wasn’t angry at him, Mukui still felt intimidated. “I’m sorry, Mukui-san, but we’re going to have to reschedule.”

“Suzuki-san, don’t…” Mukui said, but his voice was too quiet to make any impact. The girl walked right past him, and Tanae slipped down from his seat on the railing. On instinct, Mukui took a few small steps away from the pair.

“You’re gonna fight?” Tanae asked. Suzuki didn’t respond, just walked. “No thanks, I don’t care for that sort of thing. It just ain’t my style. So instead of beating me up for your mouse and my lunch money, why don’t you find some other way to get it back?” Faster than expected, Tanae opened the door behind him, slipping into the building.

“You bastard!” Suzuki ran up the rest of the stairs, chasing him inside. Mukui was left behind, wanting to somehow help but not able to follow.

* * *

“Co-come on, Suzuki, it doesn’t have to be like this. I-it was just a joke,” Tanae Jun said, his voice shaking. He hadn’t been ready for anything like this in the slightest. For one, he didn’t expect for someone that wasn’t even on the track team to be so fast, let alone able to catch up with him. Just who was this monster anyway?

“You have a shitty sense of humor.” Suzuki frowned leaning over Tanae. The boy winced, backing up further against the wall. The door back into the building was close, but he couldn’t gather the courage to try to move towards it, towards his salvation. All that he could manage was a whimper.

“I’m sorry, Suzuki-san!” he apologized, bowing his head and clapping his hands in front of him. His eyes were slammed tight in desperation, a feeling he had joked about concerning others but had never felt for himself. It was the cause of the desperate begging. “I promise I won’t do it again! I’ll leave you and Mukui alone, I swear!”

“Hey, you know why I don’t like guys like you?” Suzuki spoke as if Tanae hadn’t said a word. The rejection of his apology—no, this denial that his apology even existed—jarred into him harder than his impact with the wall had been. “I guess I really have more reason than others to dislike you, but it’s really nothing like that. Although, it is true that I dislike bullies.

“I’m not some righteous hero or anything. I don’t have a good heart, and I don’t think all people should be treated with kindness. And really, I don’t have the mindset to argue against people who suppress others either. So when it comes down to it, I lack all the right qualifiers. It really does make someone wonder why I don’t like bullies.”

Suzuki squatted down next to Tanae, eliminating her vertical advantage over him. He recoiled, bumping his head against the wall. The physical threat was still there, but her words were a truth without any clouding from society. The presence of another person’s true self without intimacy was what was truly scary.

“I don’t like cowards,” Suzuki said, looking Tanae straight in the eye. “That’s it, really. There’s nothing more to it, bullies are just big cowards. They don’t attack anyone they know they can’t beat. Some could say it’s strategy, but it’s more of an illusion of strength than anything. Their power doesn’t mean anything at all.

“And you’re even worse, Tanae-san. You only use verbal tactics. The most physical you get is stealing things from others. That’s not even direct confrontation, it’s stealth. That’s all you can really hold over them. And when someone stands up to you—well, ‘it ain’t your style’ to fight, huh? You’re barely a bully, so give it up.”

Tanae nodded. Any trace of pride he could try to cling onto was gone. His actions were only trying to show complacency so that he could dded. Any trace of pride he could try to cling onto was gone. His actions were only trying to show complacency so that hsomehow escape. Hearing such a blunt analysis of himself was causing Tanae to panic. “I-I told you, Suzuki! I said I’d never do it again! I promised! You’re right, I’m a shitty bully so I’ll quit! I’ll never try to take advantage of anyone again!” Suzuki stood up, making Tanae stop short.

“It’s really pathetic that there are still people with that mindset in university…” she muttered, not elaborating on what she meant. She shrugged, shifting her weight. “Oh well!”

With a kick, Tanae was given his escape in the form of unconsciousness. His head and shoulders slumped, a bruise already forming on the side of his face. Suzuki kneeled back down, going through the unconscious students pockets.

“Really, running away is a form of cowardice, too… Especially if it’s running away from yourself…”

She spoke to no one at all. After a bit of searching, Suzuki was able to find the mouse in Tanae’s back pocket. She turned it over in her hand, checking to see if there had been any damage when she had pushed Tanae against the wall. “It seems okay… Oh, come on!”

Upon investigating mouse, it was obvious that the back cover had been removed, the battery and USB plug-in missing as well. Tanae had probably taken the mouse apart, hiding the parts to mess with her. Since Suzuki hadn’t found them in the boy’s pockets while searching, it was only logical to assume the only person who knew where they were was currently unconscious.

“I can live without the cover and just get a new battery from home, but the USB can’t be replaced…” Suzuki sighed. She had had the mouse before the initial encounter, so it hadn’t been stolen before then. Tanae had only gone through the Student Success Building, and Suzuki had been able to stay close behind him the whole time. “I should just have to retrace our steps and it should be easy!”

When the door closed, Tanae was the one who was left behind.

* * *

The mouse’s back cover had been ungraciously dumped in the middle of a hallway, where it had landed propped up against the wall beside a trashcan. It had been returned to its rightful place, and the in-progress assembled mouse was safely tucked into its owner’s pocket. Suzuki was sitting on the floor, double-checking the trashcan even though it was empty.

“They didn’t just take the trash out, did they?” she said to herself, setting the trashcan back down. It wasn’t a necessity, so she could live without it, but Suzuki didn’t have the money lying around to get a new mouse anytime soon.

“The trash is picked up a total of two times on a weekday in this building,” a voice said, with a casualty that was reserved for talking about the weather. “Once after the faculty lunch break, and the second during the night shift. Though the janitors will come and dump it out if a particular trashcan is overflowing. Other buildings have more complex schedules.”

Suzuki scoffed, giving an uninterested look to the person addressing her. While it was reassuring to know the USB adapter wasn’t lost in a dumpster, she wasn’t a big fan of being found digging through a trashcan. “Do you know anything that’s not useless, Fukube?”

The boy, Fukube, laughed, a pure sound that took the insult in stride. He even had the gall to smile about it. “Not really,” he said. His tone made it sound like a statement of fact as opposed to a confession. “Though I’m curious as to why someone like you would be digging through the trash, Suzuki-san. Did you lose something?”

Suzuki stood up, kicking the trashcan in annoyance. It made a low sound as the plastic hit the wall, but fell back into place. “My wireless mouse’s USB adapter,” she said, holding up her index finger and thumb to show its size. “I lost it in this hallway so I thought…” Suzuki couldn’t finish the sentence. There was no need to fabricate an excuse. Saying she had lost it should be enough.

“You mean this?” Fukube held up the small adapter between his fingers, a mirror of Suzuki’s own action. The girl tried to hide her surprise, holding out her hand. Fukube returned the adaptor, taking care not to drop it onto the floor. “My tutor dropped some papers when we were leaving and I was helping her pick them up. I found it on complete accident. I was gonna drop it off at the front desk, but since it’s yours, there’s no need to.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Suzuki reassembled the mouse, the back cover clicking back into place. She put it back in her pocket. “Any chance you happened to find a battery lying around, too?” she asked, a faint hope. If the USB adaptor had been in some other hallway, then it would take a search of most of the building to find the battery on her own.

Fukube shook his head. “Nope, nope. Sorry, Suzuki-san. You want me to help you look for that, too? What kind was it?”

Suzuki sighed at the offer. “No don’t,” she said. Even though the search would go faster with Fukube’s assistance, it wasn’t something she was willing to accept. Owing people wasn’t something she was interested in, either. “It’d just be a waste of time. I’m not crawling around on the floor for some half-dead battery I can easily replace. I give up.”

“Suzuki-san, a question.” Fukube didn’t seem to put off of the idea of not searching, either.

“Hm?” Suzuki hadn’t meant to respond, but the sound escaped anyway. It would probably only be a few moments, and she could even refuse to answer, too. It wasn’t like it would take too much time, but all she really wanted was to go home and take a bath.

Fukube smiled, like he was genuinely glad that he could ask his question. “I know I haven’t known you very long, so I may be wrong. Not to mention a person like me shouldn’t be drawing conclusions in the first place,” he said. Suzuki thought it was weird, but the orange-eyed boy was eccentric so she didn’t bother to say anything. “But you seem to be pretty organized, and you even keep the mouse put together when you’re not using it. Isn’t it weird to lose something like that in parts?”

“…” Suzuki scowled. Not only had he asked a question that was begging for a long answer, it would seem strange to refuse to answer. Not sure of a proper wayake the trash out, did they?"-checking the trashcan even though it was empty.

hcan. It had been returned to its rightful to leave without seeming suspicious, Suzuki merely abstained from responding. Fukube was quick to insist.

“Ne?”

“…”

“Ne, ne?” The boy leaned towards Suzuki without fully invading her personal space. Even so, she felt uncomfortable with his eyes locked on her, waiting for an answer. She turned her head away, staring at the wall with its uninteresting wallpaper border. At this rate, there was no way out of it.

“… I got into a fight,” Suzuki said.

“Ah.” Fukube’s smile fell back into place, and he stood up straight. He winked, pointing his index finger into the air like some anime character posing for dramatic effect. “That explains why your bag’s outside on the ground and why you’re not in your tutoring session with Mukui-san right now.”

Suzuki grimaced. She had at least hoped Mukui would move her bag inside, but it seemed this was not the case. No one had taken the bag, but that didn’t mean no one had stolen from it either. As concerning as that was, the fact that her classmate recognized her bag on sight and knew her schedule was just plain unnerving. “That’s just _creepy_, Fukube.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The boy dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand. While she wasn’t fully willing to let it go, Suzuki wasn’t entirely willing to argue about it, either. “How ‘bout I make up for it? You obviously don’t intend to work on your education, so how about we go and talk about this over food?”

“Like I said, Fukube; you’re creepy,” Suzuki repeated. Fukube seemed disappointed, almost frowning. Suzuki felt like she had just kicked a puppy in the back alley instead of Tanae.

“I’ll pay,” Fukube said. It was almost like he could read her like a book, if that was his backup plan. It was a tempting offer in the first place, and it would save her the effort of scraping together dinner later.

“Fine.”

He was just lucky Suzuki was even hungry at all.

* * *

“Ah, so that’s how it went.” Fukube Satoshi nodded a few times, hand supporting his chin. Suzuki nodded herself, biting into one of the hamburgers Fukube had bought her. “You really do have an interesting way of handling things, Suzuki-san.”

“Whatever.” The girl seemed far more focused on eating than actually participating in the conversation. Fukube left his own meal untouched. While he had ordered a normal meal combo from the menu, it seemed minimal in comparison to the amount of food Suzuki had amassed on her side of the table. Just watching her eat was enough to feel like he was full.

“You were bullied in elementary and middle school weren’t you?” Fukube commented out of thin air. Suzuki almost choked on her food, coughing and reaching for her drink. Fukube pushed it towards her, making it easier to get. Once she had swallowed, Suzuki converted her remaining energy into a glare.

“You really are a treasure trove of useless information, aren’t you?” she countered. The fact that she didn’t deny it was enough to confirm his assumption as the truth.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Fukube pushed the order of fries on his side of the tray over to Suzuki’s, next to her own. She picked one up and bit into it with a grudging look on her face. Apology accepted. “Although, I guess I can see where you’re coming from. A few weeks of knowing each other is a bit too early to be bringing things like this up.”

“I’d say considering that we’ve barely talked in the past few weeks it’s the perfect time to prove you’re a stalker.”

Fukube winced. “Ah, that’s pretty harsh…” Stalker was not a word he wanted to be associated with, even if he could see where she had gotten the idea from. For someone with his interests, it was only a matter of time before someone referred to him in that way. Deciding it would be best to not be bothered by those sorts of comments all the time, Fukube regained his composure.

“You deserve it,” Suzuki said, obviously put off by how easily he had recovered. “Any other useless information you wish to share while I’m here, Data Base-san?”

Fukube smiled. While he wasn’t sure how he felt about being referred to in that way, it was what he was. If she wanted useless information, he could give her useless information. “Suzuki Akiko, age 19. Birthday: June 5, Gemini. Blood type: AB. Height: 160 centimeters. Weight: 49 kilograms. As for the rest of her measurements—”

Suzuki reached her hand across the table, shoving it into Fukube’s face and covering his mouth. “Stop it,” she said. “You’re only proving the point that you’re a stalker, not to mention a pervert.” Fukube pushed over the parfait he had no interest in eating. Suzuki looked down at it, moving her hand so that the boy could breathe properly again. “But I forgive you so long as you have a good reason.”

“I’ll still apologize, though. I don’t know if my answer will satisfy you at all,” Fukube said. “When we first met, you were reminding me of someone else I used to know, so I got curious and looked into you. I did it all legally, too. It’s kind of surprising how easy it is to do that.”

“Someone you used to know, huh…?” Suzuki wasn’t taking the bait to distract her from his reasons. She stated at Fukube, and he had to force himself not to react.

“Yeah…” he said. Suzuki waited for him to elaborate, and Fukube took his opportunity to change the topic. “So how bout we just talk? Little snippets of data like that don’t mean a thing in real life. They tell you nothing of what a person is really like. I’m interested in the ‘real Suzuki Akiko,’ if that’s alright.”

“Whatever,” the girl assented, biting into her second hamburger. It would have been disturbing how uninterested she was if Fukube hadn’t been so used to it. Maybe he had misplaced her personality and mixed it up with somebody else. Dismissing the thought, Fukube smiled and spread his hands out in the air.

“Let’s start simple,” he said. “Why’d you choose to come to this university?”

“They had a good gym and athletics support system,” Suzuki answered between bites. It hadn’t been the answer Fukube had been expecting, but he pressed on.

“But you’re not on any sports teams, Suzuki-san.”

This time she didn’t comment on his knowledge. “I’m a self-trained athlete.”

“If you look at the definition and societal stigmas attached to being an athlete then you really aren’t one,” Fukube said.

“I suppose. But it’s just kind of lame to say ‘I exercise a lot’ or ‘I’m an exerciser.’ That last one doesn’t even make sense.” Suzuki shrugged. “Doing athletic things is good stress relief for me. This school has a gym open to all students and I could find a place to live nearby that I could afford. That’s my whole reason, really.” She took a large sip from her drink. Fukube could hear the ice shift inside the cup.

“Ah, that explains why you’re undecided for your major. It’s more about the convenience than the actual schooling you can receive.”

“Well what about you?” Suzuki snapped.

“I’m undecided as well,” Fukube admitted.

“Then I don’t wanna hear it! What did you come to this school for then?” The boy hadn’t expected to be answering questions, but Suzuki was so irritated with him that he figured it was best to at least do his best to comply.

“How about I give you some clues and you can guess?” Fukube proposed. Suzuki frowned into her straw. “As you can see, I’m in tutoring. Take in mind that this is not for just one or two of my classes, but all of them. With this in mind and he qualifiers for getting into this school, what do you think the answer to your question is?”

“Hm…” Suzuki meditated the problem over for a few minutes, eating half the fries Fukube had given her. Halfway through bringing a fry to her mouth, it seemed something had dawned on her. “Could it be that you performed so poorly on your other entrance exams you couldn’t go anywhere else? This school doesn’t make you take an entrance exam so it serves as a default if you can afford it.”

Fukube nodded without shame. “That’s right,” he said, voice filled with unnecessary pride. The university they were both attending was an anomaly in Japan, the first to not require its students take an entrance exam in order to attend. The trade-off was that it was more expensive than a normal university. It still hosted an entrance exam for appearances’ sake, giving healthy scholarships to the students who had scored the best.

“I was just joking don’t play along with me like that!” Suzuki exclaimed. Fukube stayed silent, and her expression descended into shock. “That’s terrible! That’s really terrible, Fukube!” She shuddered in horror, and Fukube didn’t think she was acting.

“Ah, that’s better than what Houtarou did, though,” he said. Suzuki seemed skeptical that something could be worse than that. “He came here so he wouldn’t even have to try and take an entrance exam.”

“Houtarou…” Suzuki pondered over the name. “Oh, you mean Oreki Houtarou-san?” Fukube nodded. The girl seemed confused by the comment. “Is he really that lazy? He always has his homework in the one class that I have with him. He usually has pretty good grades, too.”

“Don’t let that fool you. He’ll do what’s needed and not much else.” Fukube chuckled, the sound trailing off sadly. “At least that’s how he used to be. Now he makes exceptions for wasting energy. I’m his best friend and I’m still shocked that he even wanted to go to school after high school in the first place…”

Suzuki frowned, pausing her work on the second carton of fries. “Fukube, I really don’t know that much about Oreki-san, but is it really something to look that worried about?” she asked. Fukube tried to adjust his expression while she spoke. “I mean, most kids these days go to university because it’s expected, right? ‘You can’t get anywhere without an education.’ That’s been drilled into our heads since day one.”

“That just won’t do, Suzuki-san,” Fukube said, shaking his head. He hadn’t been looking for a theory about Oreki in this conversation, but he couldn’t just accept the one he had been given either. It was too simple of a solution. “Houtarou just isn’t like that at all. The problem is that he wouldn’t _want_ to get anywhere, so an education is kind of irrelevant.”

“Sorry I’m not much use,” Suzuki said, pulling the top off of the parfait’s container and unwrapping the spoon from its plastic. She had somehow finished off the fries when he wasn’t paying attention. The tray was a wasteland of trash, almost like a fast food elephant graveyard. “Maybe if I knew Oreki-san better I could help?”

“No, I can’t ask that of you,” Fukube said. “It’s my problem with him, so we need to solve it after all. Besides, that’s not why I asked you to come here with me.”

“It was to ask about the fight with Tanae, right?” Suzuki was eating the parfait with a speed usually reserved for garbage disposals removing clogs from the sink.

“Not exactly.” There was a different problem, one that he could ask help with, that needed to be solved. Suzuki was the person that could help him with it.

“Then what was it?”

“Suzuki-san would you like to go on a date with me?”

The girl in question stared at Fukube, eyes wide and spoon hanging from her mouth. The faintest traces of pink were emerging on her cheeks. The spoon slipped out of her open jaw, clattering as it landed in the empty parfait container. The sound seemed to be enough to break Suzuki out of her stupor.

“Huh?”


	2. Wednesday, April 17

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Wednesday, April 17

* * *

Tanae woke up in the morning with just about as much of a headache as he had the previous day. If he had had his way, the entire incident would have been kept a secret, but that just wasn’t going to be the case. He had a black eye to show for his troubles, as well as a bruise on the back of his head, which gave him a limited number of options for resting his head on a pillow. According to the campus nurse, he was lucky he didn’t have a concussion with all that he had gone through.

All things considered, though, it could have been worse. Suzuki had only hurt him the two times, and gotten away with intimidation for the rest of the time. Tanae almost thought that he would have _preferred_ getting into a fight. That would at least have given him a good story to brag about. Anything sounded at least ten times better than he was cornered by a girl in an alley behind the school and philosophized at until she kicked him unconscious.

It had just taken one kick, too! In addition to being crazy, Suzuki was a monster.

He wanted nothing more than to just stay in his bed all day and try to sleep off his headache and shame. Instead, he got up, took a shower, popped some painkillers and started the walk to class. With the money it had taken to attend the school, his parents had decided it would be easier to shove him into campus housing instead of sending him the funds needed to live in even the cheapest apartments in the city.

As much as Tanae wanted to be mad at them, he just couldn’t manage it. His parents hadn’t wanted him around the house anymore, and who could blame them? He was just an overgrown punk after all, one that didn’t reflect well on the family, and would just look bad if he stayed around the house.

Besides, living on campus meant he had less distance to walk to school. A number of convenience stores were in a reasonable walking distance, too, and he had been living off store-bought bento the past two weeks. At least he wouldn’t get any stares for his black eye on the train like he would have otherwise.

That same rule didn’t apply once he got into class. There were plenty of whispers, but Tanae chose to ignore them. He had already built up a reputation in the freshman class, so he wasn’t going to bother to listen in. It was rather obvious what they all were going to say anyway. Consequently, since he couldn’t exactly wear the bruise as a symbol of pride since he had lost, that reputation would probably take a down turn as a result.

But was that really so bad?

“"ut was that really so bad?

a symbol of pride since he had lost, that reputation would probably take a down turn as a result.

tBwahahaha! Damn, Jun, what happened to your face? You look like you let someone practice their homerun swing on your head and you just stood there and took it.”

Comparing Suzuki’s kick to a baseball bat. Now that was an accurate statement if Tanae had ever heard one.

“Oh, shut it,” Tanae huffed, resting his head on his hand. He bumped his bruise in the process, and hastily switched sides. This would take some getting used to, that was for sure. Hopefully it would be gone by the end of the week and the whole thing would be over.

Despite his command, his classmate continued to snicker. Hiraoka Kouna had been one of his friends in middle school, and had taught him what he knew about fighting. Despite the fact that they were the same age, a lost bet had led to an insistence that Tanae referred to her as senpai for the rest of his life. He made great efforts to avoid using her name whenever possible.

“But, but Jun-chan~.” Hiraoka trilled over his name, the same thing she always did when she was taunting him. “As your senpai, it’s my job to take care of you whenever you’re hurt. And if you’re getting yourself beat up, it’s my job to avenge my comrades. I’m honor bound!”

“I think you’re confusing the terms _kohai_ and _nakama_,” Tanae said. “I don’t need you to avenge me, either. There’s nothing to avenge. Aren’t you getting a little too old to be reading shonen manga? You’re in college; where do you get that kind of free time anyway?”

Hiraoka looked hurt, a playful pout on her features. Tanae knew it was a trap, and thus gained no guilt from the situation. “It only takes an hour or so to read through _Jump_ every week and it’s the beginning of the trimester,” she argued. “I think I can afford a little bit of free time like that. Besides, if _Bleach_ really is coming to an end soon, I can’t afford to miss a single issue!”

Tanae took a moment to consider the last time he had even bothered to touch an issue of _Jump_, then realized he couldn’t remember. _Bleach_ had been one of the big names, though, and while keeping track of where he had abandoned the plot was impossible, the idea of it ending still seemed odd.

“Not that _Bleach_ is entirely worth it anymore. The Fulbring arc was okay, but the ret-conning is really pissing me off. But there are some things you just gotta do, and I hate leaving something unfinished. That _World Trigger_ series is really good, though, even though it just started. I really hope it doesn’t get cut. _That_ would just be depressing. Oh, speaking of shonen manga, what really did happen to your eye?”

Only Hiraoka could make that transition seem so effortless, even if it was a somewhat natural change in topic. Caught off guard, Tanae found his mouth working before his brain could catch up. “Got hit,” he spluttered.

“Oh, by who?” Hiraoka further prompted. “Why? Don’t tell me you were out picking fights. I know for a fact that you can’t possibly be as stupid as to pick a fight on school grounds. So that means you were…” She paused, a disappointed look on her face. Tanae felt something akin to what normal people felt when they accidentally kicked a puppy.

Hiraoka had figured out that he had been bullying again and was giving him the same look she always did.

“Yeah, I was, so what?” Tanae tried to make the words sound like he didn’t care, but couldn’t quite pull it off. He used to be able to do it without thinking. Now it took effort, from some change that had happened between then and now. “It’s my business, so shove it.”

She was still giving him that look, but Hiraoka didn’t say anything else. Even though she disapproved—she would try to say she didn’t, but the look made it obvious—she never lectured him, never told him to stop. There could have been a thousand counterarguments, from future to family, but not a single one ever crossed her lips. It was part of why Tanae had let her stick around while he pushed her away.

Funny, that the words Hiraoka had wanted to say for years had come from someone that he had just met two weeks ago.

Suzuki’s choice of words hadn’t been the typical way of going about things, but maybe that’s why they had stuck. She hadn’t said that bullying was wrong, or that it would be bad for his future, or that she would turn him in to anyone. It wasn’t from a sense of justice or a redemption. Suzuki simply didn’t like bullies, so she said so when she saw one.

But most importantly she had told Tanae to quit because he was bad at it. It made him wonder that if he had been a better bully if she would even tell him to stop. Either way, he had the feeling he still would have ended up unconscious that night.

“Hey, Kouna, I’ve been thinking,” Tanae said. His casual drop of her given name completely made Hiraoka gloss over the fact that he had missed the part where he was supposed to call her senpai. “If I decided to put in effort to find something productive to do with my sorry excuse for a life, would you be willing to help me out with that?”

Hiraoka stared him down, trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that. Tanae had to admit that it could have any number of reasons, but would be okay as long as she agreed to help. They could work out the details later. Finally, she sighed and shook her head.

“Man, that kick to head must have really rattled your brain around.” She smiled, letting Tanae know it was a joke. “But if the new Jun-chan is one that wants to stop being a bully, I suppose as his senpai I will have to help out and accept this change.” She nodded a few times. “I was wondering when you’d have a change of heart. I’m really proud of you so let me do whatever I can.”

The mix of her serious and playful tones made Tanae pause to process them properly, but in the end he was sure that she had just agreed. He tried to think of something compelling to say, but couldn’t. In the end, he settled for “Thank you.”

He decided it was best not to think about the fact that his major life decisions were inspired by the rambling of a girl in a back alley. It could reasonably be justified by the fact that crazy people were supposed to somehow be charismatic, but he didn’t like that idea later. He was saved from further contemplation by the professor entering the room and starting class.

* * *

“So you asked her out,” Houtarou deadpanned, and Fukube nodded. By luck, the brown-haired boy had been able to find his friend during their coinciding free period. It wasn’t as if Houtarou had been avoiding him, but the formerly lazy boy seemed to be throwing more energy into things like his studies lately, at the consequence of skipping meals. The initial problem aside, Fukube was honor bound to at least make sure his friend wasn’t starving himself.

“Well, it’s more of just a date than a relationship,” Fukube said, deciding the clarification was necessary. As far as he could tell, Suzuki wasn’t going to be the type of person to just jump into a full-blown relationship, which was good for him. Fukube wasn’t even sure if that was what he was aiming for in the long run.

Houtarou sighed, not even touching his lunch. “And she actually said yes,” he continued. In contrast, Fukube had already started eating, so he gave a nod in place of a verbal answer. “I know you’re a database and all, but you can’t know enough about this girl to actually like her. And I _know_ that she doesn’t understand you at all if she said yes.”

Fukube unraveled the sentence and chose to not take it as an insult. His true nature wasn’t something that should concern Suzuki, especially if this wasn’t going to go anywhere in the long run. “It’s only one date, Houtarou. I want to know more about her and she seemed content enough to try and learn more about me, or at least put up with that possibility.” He popped a bite of his convenience store bento into his mouth before continuing. “Where it goes after that date is a completely different issue.”

“One you haven’t even thought about,” Houtarou said, almost staring Fukube down. The difference between his own bento and the cafeteria bought lunch was almost depressing in quality. “Satoshi, if you want to even think about starting a relationship, don’t you think you should get those abysmal grades of yours taken care of first?”

“Mou, Houtarou, that’s harsh~,” Fukube joked through his wince. “I am in tutoring, you know. And it’s not like she isn’t either. Besides, Suzuki doesn’t seem to be the type of person to think that I should prioritize her over schoolwork. We are both university students after all. And worst case scenario she doesn’t want anything else to do with me after this and it’ll all be over by next week. That’s what your youth is supposed to be like, right?”

Fukube winked, and Houtarou stared back at him, disgusted. “You should stop taking your life lessons from terribly written novels and television dramas,” he commented. Houtarou started to pick through his lunch, hardly paying attention to what was even going into his mouth. At least that much hadn’t changed.

Fukube easily finished off his cheap bento and wondered if it would be worth it to go and order something at the register. He had been lucky enough to get a free period within the cafeteria’s lunch hours that most other students had in class, so there wasn’t a line to deal with. That had been the only reason he had been able to convince Houtarou to follow him into the cafeteria.

Failing to resist temptation, Fukube reached for his wallet. He was struck with the memory of the absurd amount of food he had bought for Suzuki last night and the fact that he should be willing to spend money on her on Sunday as the date _had_ been his idea. Resigned, he dismissed the idea of eating until dinner.

Noticing the issue, Houtarou pushed part of his lunch over to Fukube. It was so similar to his own actions at the fast food place with Suzuki that he almost wanted to laugh. The only thing that stopped him was the act of stuffing his face.

“You’re not taking this seriously, are you?” Houtarou asked.

“What do you mean?” Fukube responded, his mouth full. It was amazing how Suzuki could inhale entire meals in a sentence from her conversation partner. Fukube had only made it a few bites in. On a side note, he resolved to never eat convenience store bento again when his university of choice had such excellent food in its dining halls.

Houtarou frowned, the corners of his lips turning down lower than before. “This whole affair with Suzuki-san. You’re not even trying to think of it seriously at all. Even if you don’t think it will work out, doesn’t she deserve better than your half-assed attempt?”

Fukube did his best to keep his tone lighthearted. If Houtarou of all people was cursing, then it had to be serious. “It’s not like I’m completely slacking,” he said. “I’m just also preparing for the possibility that it might not work out. People can go on dates without being completely committed to each other.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Houtarou was blatantly ignoring his food. “Do you think you can just make up for everything by having a few random flings? That’s not how it works, Satoshi. Not even trying is just going to make it worse. Are you even considering how—?”

“Houtarou,” Satoshi interrupted before the sentence could go any further. “What about you, Houtarou? Do you think I’m the only one that is doing something they shouldn’t be doing right now? If you’re going to try to pull the morality act on me, I don’t want to hear it. What I do is my business, and unless you’re willing to share your own reasons, I don’t think I’m willing to share mine.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

Fukube felt bad for what he had to say, but there wasn’t any other way to put it. It wasn’t as if they could have a full-out confrontation in the middle of the cafeteria, either. Houtarou sighed and pulled on the forelock of his hair a few times, lost in thought.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t understand.” As if he also realized it would be too much of a hassle to get into an argument, he resumed eating his lunch. Fukube returned to his own portion, taking a few bites to adjust his line of thought.

“Man, the food here is really good, isn’t it?” he asked cheerfully. Houtarou, understanding immediately, nodded.

“Yeah, it is.”

* * *

Mukui drummed his fingers against the table nervously, waiting for Suzuki to finish the problem she was working on. With a job as a tutor, he had plenty of time to sit around and do his own homework while he was teaching his classmates the same thing. The few assignments he had left were readings, and the same worksheet Suzuki was attentively trying to complete was sitting in front of the boy, waiting as a comparison to check her answers.

He didn’t know how he was feeling. A part of him had considered just wanting to go home after his classes, to call off from his work and lay around in bed, staring at the ceiling. But Suzuki had caught up to him in the halls, apologized for skipping yesterday, then asked for a make-up tutoring session since the assignment she should have been working on was due tomorrow.

And how was he supposed to say no whenever it was his fault she had missed their session yesterday?

It was almost frustrating how she didn’t say anything about it, though. To her, it was like the incident with Tanae had never happened. And when you were someone like her, someone who could stand up for themselves and burst in, heroically saving the day, maybe that _was_ nothing. Maybe that was normal.

Mukui couldn’t live up to that. A big chunk of his life was being on the victim end in those scenarios, being the kid cornered after school and picked on. He had always been a little overweight, was way too smart for his own good, and notorious for not being able to say a word to anyone about the situation. In other words, he had allowed himself to become the perfect victim.

At first, he had accepted it. There was always someone like him, someone it was perfectly natural to take advantage of. If he was supposed to play that role in society, then that was how it would be. He never even considered saying anything to his parents, standing up against his bullies, or trying to make himself into someone that wouldn’t be picked on. Even if he did those things, wouldn’t someone else get picked on anyway? It was better that way.

But now, he wasn’t so sure. Mukui couldn’t just accept that kind of logic. Someone knew, someone that would do something, so maybe it was over. Maybe Tanae would leave him alone. This was university after all. Surely something would be different now that he had come here.

But something was supposed to have been different before, and he had still been bullied.

But something had been different, and he still felt the same sense of acceptance, that this was his place.

So why was it again that he felt like it wasn’t okay? Why didn’t he want to be the victim? Why wasn’t he complacent with the role he had been given anymore?

Suzuki frowned at her homework and violently took an eraser to the last line of the equation she had written. It was the same ferocity that she had taken to Tanae, in the dissatisfaction and the way she took it down without mercy. Mukui felt useless and in awe just watching her. It was like the fact that he had been saved had changed everything, that there was a hero out there ready to save him.

With just as much force, Suzuki finished the problem and pushed it over to Mukui. “How is it?” she asked. Mukui’s eyes ran over her work, trying to compare it to his own, but ended up not being able to focus on the numbers at all. Suzuki frowned at his expression. “That bad, huh?”

“Huh? No, not at all, Suzuki-san,” Mukui said, trying to save himself. “I’m just focusing, that’s all.” Suzuki stared him down, not backing down an inch. It was interesting just how intimidating a person could be over homework of all things. Then again, Mukui had tutored students who were far more obsessed with their grades than Suzuki was, so it wasn’t all that surprising either.

“Bullshit, you’re not focusing at all.” e not focusing at all."ther."essed with their grades than Suzuki was, so it wasn'g a person could be over homework of all thingWith zero effort, Suzuki hit the problem right on the head. Mukui winced, giving it away. “That’s way too weird for a brainiac like yourself to be this distracted from homework, Mukui-san,” she said, leaning across the table. “Don’t tell me you’re having a life crisis only a few weeks into your first semester.”

She probably hadn’t meant them as an insult, but the words still hurt. Was this a life crisis? Mukui didn’t think so, but it was enough for him to think about what exactly was wrong with him. These sort of things were supposed to wait longer, or not happen so suddenly, right? There was supposed to be more to life first, right?

So why was the phrase “life crisis” the only real way to describe it?

“Well, I suppose you could say that… but it’s nothing for you to worry about, Suzuki-san.” Mukui tried to look back to the job at hand, using a finger to guide his eyes over the lines he was supposed to be reading. Even if he were to admit his problems, there was no way someone like Suzuki could understand anyway. Not when she was as strong as she was.

_Strong._

Mukui put the papers down and looked her in the eye. Suzuki was watching him carefully, trying to figure him out. Mukui took a deep breath. “How do you become a strong person, Suzuki-san?” he asked. He waited for her to laugh, but she only stared at him blankly. “I was thinking you would know, since you are someone who’s strong. If you don’t want to answer, it’s alright, though.”

Suzuki laughed, but it wasn’t with malice. It wasn’t with humor, either. It was just a low chuckle, and felt more like it was done on accident then delivered. “You seem to have come to a very wrong conclusion, Mukui-san,” she said. “You see, I’m not strong at all.”

Mukui felt like he was getting slapped in the face. “But what you did with Tanae-san!” he protested. “That was incredible. How can you say you’re not strong Suzuki-san?”

“I think you’re confusing strength with selfishness, Mukui-san,” Suzuki said. She shook her head and leaned back in her seat, eyes locked on the ceiling. “You see, I don’t have any of the right mentality to be considered strong. I’m just someone who does what they want.”

“But you need to be strong to get away with that,” Mukui said. “If you’re someone like me, you can’t do that. There are people to stop you, people who get away with what they want because they’re strong. Whenever I try I only get stopped.” He was more angry than depressed at this point, which was good. He wouldn’t be able to get his point across if he was crying like an idiot.

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, no emotion appeared in his voice at all.

Suzuki only cracked her neck. “Oh, so you’re one of those types huh?” She stretched her arms, still looking up. “I guess that’s strength, but I don’t think so. I feel like if I was really strong then I’d be able to do something else with this ‘strength’ you think I have. I’m certain there are better uses for it.”

“But—” Mukui started, only to have his words cut off by Suzuki dropping her hands onto a table. The sound echoed throughout the room.

“Now, my turn. Why are you asking me this, Mukui-san?”

Mukui lost track of his sentence, unable to form proper words. Suzuki stared at him, waiting for an answer. He took a deep breath. “I want to be strong,” he said. “I’m sick of this so I thought you—”

“No way,” Suzuki said, not even giving him time to finish. “You’ve got some illusion of me running around in your head that I don’t like at all. Get rid of it, she’s a bad role model, forget you ever even thought such a thing. If you wanna be strong, you sure as hell don’t need me to be giving you advice. Following in my footsteps is only meant to end in disaster.

“Everything I do is for myself anyway. No point in following that.”

And without giving a Mukui a chance to retort, Suzuki retrieved her homework from his hands and began work on the next problem.

* * *

By the time Suzuki finished her homework, she was feeling exhausted, at least in the mental sense. She should feel accomplished. All her homework was done for the next two days, she had finished her reading for the next week during lunch, and she had already started to review for the test that she had coming up soon. All things considered, she was living the life of a successful university student, and had a far better work ethic then some of her freshman classmates.

That was saying something, considering this was the Japanese educational system and all.

If anything, it was Mukui’s comments that had put her on edge. She was strong? What a joke! The kid sure was stupid for someone that had been recruited into the student success center as a freshman. Having to walk through the same hallway as yesterday where she had encountered Fukube the previous day didn’t help. All it did was make her think about Tanae and his bullshit.

“So it’s not exhaustion, it’s just anger…” she muttered to herself. Suzuki sighed in relief. _So all I have to do is go for a run and it’ll go away. I’ll run until I feel sick… No, I haven’t felt sick from running in years. I’ll just have to go until I stop thinking then, that sounds good._ She pushed open the door, adjusting the drawstring bag that held her school items and change of clothes. “I really hate talking to people about myself like that. What’s their problem anyway?”

“Suzuki-san.”

Suzuki stopped at the sound of her name, looking at the person who had said it. Leaning against the stone railing of the steps was a boy with messy black hair and green eyes. He looked bored, which Suzuki couldn’t blame him for if he had been waiting for her since she had gone in for tutoring. After a few moments, his name sprang into her mind.

“Oh, Oreki Houtarou-san, right?” she asked. Just saying the name made her think about what she had talked about with Fukube. He had made it seem like there was some sort of problem, but looking at Oreki she just couldn’t see it. The boy nodded in recognition of his name but didn’t say anything else. Suzuki did her best to smile. “Can I help you with something, Oreki-san?”

Oreki shifted uncomfortably, almost like he was thinking about not even bothering to say what he had come here for. Suzuki frowned, reminding herself to be polite. She didn’t have the patience to deal with anyone right now, but was trying anyway. Why was that?

_Because that just won’t do, Suzuki-san._

“Would it be alright if we talked about something?” Oreki asked, finally breaking his silence. “I can understand if you’re busy, but this really is important.” The look on his face didn’t match the urgency in his words at all, but Suzuki guessed that was just the kind of person he was. Suzuki shrugged.

“Don’t tell me you need me to help you out with some assignment, Oreki-san,” she said. Suzuki did her best to smile. Oreki only shook his head, and her expression dropped the second it was formed. She sighed. “Well, this sounds like this’ll take a while. How about you walk with me down to the track? I need to get some exercise in today and I would like to do it so I can get home before it’s dark.”

If anything, Suzuki had expected him to hesitate. Instead, Oreki nodded once, setting off towards the track without another word. anything, Suzuki had expected him to hesitate. Instead, Oreki nodded once, setting off towards the track without another wordIt took Suzuki a moment to realize that’s what he was doing as opposed to just leaving. She sighed, tossing her bag over her shoulder and following. It took a large amount of self-control to not just run down the hill to where the track was.

After a bit, she started to regret not doing just that. While Oreki was keeping up with her pace just fine, it felt like she was walking way too slow. To make matters worse, he wasn’t saying anything either. For someone who seemed to need to talk about something, Oreki was taking his sweet time.

_If it’s not that important, just go away!_ Halfway down the hill, Suzuki was terribly tempted to stop holding back her thoughts and just be honest. Fukube was right; there was something wrong with Oreki. She didn’t need to be his best friend to understand that. Suzuki took a deep breath to speak.

Oreki spoke first.

“Listen, I don’t know a good way to put this,” he said. Suzuki closed her mouth but still ended up glaring daggers at the boy. She was going to need to run twice as long at this rate. “But you’re the Suzuki-san that Satoshi is going on a date with this weekend, right?” Suzuki gaped, but couldn’t get a response out before Oreki continued talking. “I understand that this is a decision for you to make, but I don’t think that it’s a good idea for you to get into a relationship with Satoshi.”

Suzuki frowned. Despite the warning he had given, Oreki seemed as bored as ever. If Fukube were here, he could probably read things on Oreki’s face that that Suzuki couldn’t. Then again, if Fukube were here, they probably wouldn’t even be having this conversation in the first place.

“Just what the hell are you talking about?” Suzuki snapped. “Are you serious? What is this even about, anyway? There’s some bullshit going on between you two that you’re both just running around other people to avoid talking about right?” She didn’t like taking her anger out on others usually, but she didn’t really care right now. She needed to get her frustration out. Oreki was there.

_Everything I do is for myself._

Oreki seemed to have his expression darken, only a little. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. Suzuki couldn’t tell. She wasn’t very good at reading even the people she was close to. “How much do you—? No, it doesn’t matter.” Oreki shook his head and started to play with a forelock of his hair. “Like I said, there’s no good way to say this that means you’ll understand. It’s just… there’s a certain way Satoshi thinks about other people that isn’t exactly compatible with getting into a relationship is all.”

“Oh? And what is that? Why don’t you try explaining it to me instead of jumping around with the fucking point?”

“I can’t explain it because I don’t understand it. But…” Oreki sighed like he was tired of talking already. “There’s a chance that maybe you could understand it. I don’t know what kind of person you are, Suzuki-san, so I can’t say anything for certain. But I do think it’s something you should know about before you even think about anything, that’s all.”

They were down the hill now, on the opposite end of the track to the gates. Suzuki stopped, hand gripping onto the chain link fence hard enough to prevent blood flow to her fingers in a matter of seconds. “It obviously can’t be that important if you can’t even explain it to me. ‘Oh, that guy who asked you out? Don’t do it. Why? Sorry, I can’t tell you.’” She let out a bark of a laugh. “Do you realize how fucking _ridiculous_ that sounds, Oreki?!”

Oreki only stared at her. Suzuki wanted to wring his neck, kick him in the face, anything. There were people who were passive, and when they tried to be active there were mixed results. As far as Suzuki was concerned, Oreki was a person who was worse than passive, he was _inactive_, and his attempt at doing something went downhill because he didn’t know how to handle anything.

She couldn’t even say way she was so worked up. It was just a date, not a relationship. She didn’t even know if she cared. And yet—

“You know, Oreki-san, I can’t stand people who tell others how to live their lives.”

“I’m not doing that, Suzuki-san,” Oreki said. “I’m only telling you my thoughts. I think you should ask Satoshi about it. If you can understand him, or at least accept him, I think it will do him some good. In the end the decision’s up to you.” Finishing his point, the brunette boy bowed. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. Thank you for your time.”

And the then he was walking away, back up the hill to wherever he had to be next.

Suzuki ran to the track entrance. There were marks on her hand from the fence, crosses making diamonds. She couldn’t feel her fingers. She ran without stretching, going lap after lap until her brain was so numb she wasn’t even angry anymore. She wasn’t anything.

By the time she was finished, it was already dark. Suzuki went home, took a bath, and collapsed, making a silent wish that she wouldn’t sleep through her alarm in the morning.


	3. Sunday, April 21

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Sunday, April 21

* * *

Suzuki woke without her alarm needing to go off and rolled over in bed, using the blankets to cover her head. It was barely three weeks into the trimester, and here she was, already waking up early on her days off. Part of her missed her high school days when she could just sleep all Sunday, and that would be all she wanted from her weekend. Now she had started the habit of getting a head start on her assignments, and that apparently meant waking up roughly around the time the sun came up.

She tried not to think. She really did. But fifteen minutes proved that sort of thing useless, and Suzuki threw the covers off, heading for the shower. If she was going to be awake, she might as well be properly ready for the rest of the day, too. It took until she was halfway dressed to remember.

Her planner was open on the table in the middle of the room, the remains of the previous week already marked as having past. Each assignment had been checked off, and there were a few notes marked for the day of studying and review reminders. Written under them in substantially messier script was Fukube’s name, followed shortly by his number.

She had almost forgotten. That was really bad, especially since she and Fukube shared a class the previous day, which was when he had given her the reminder and his number. Suzuki scowled, pulling off her indoor clothes and heading for her closet.

What the hell did people wear on dates anyway? She knew girls were expected to go for dresses and heels and makeup, but Suzuki adamantly refused to own any of those things. She doubted that Fukube would care too much, though. Even if he did, he was going to settle for the casual approach anyway. Besides, whatever he planned to do, it couldn’t be too fancy considering they were both jobless.

It was definitely too early to call him—or to call anyone for that matter. Looking over her schedule again, Suzuki decided to go over her test material again, especially since there were still a few segments that were still fuzzy. She pulled together some breakfast, trying to at least save enough to make lunch the next day, and ate while looking over her notes.

It was a wonderful time living alone, not having to worry about manners in front of other people.

Suzuki had cycled between her notes and some new reading material to keep her brain sharp at least three times before her phone rang. Ignoring her racing heartbeat, Suzuki answered without checking the caller ID. “Hel—”

“Good morning, Akiko-chan!” the voice on the other end sang. It was female, which eliminated the possibility of Fukube calling. That was good, considering that Suzuki hadn’t given him her number. In fact, he hadn’t even asked for it. She made a mental note to make sure he didn’t already have her number on file before returning her focus to the phone call. “Wow, you sound like you’re already awake, too! How do you always manage to wake up so early? Weren’t you, like, insanely lazy in middle school, aru?”

The familiar intentional slip of the accent made Suzuki relax a bit, even if the words did make her frown. Hasegawa Jing Hua was as comforting as ever, and the only person that Suzuki could manage to even consider a friend throughout high school. She pushed her books away, knowing that once her friend starting talking, there would be no point in attempting to get back to work.

“Please stop confusing the past with the present. People do change, you know, Jing Hua. You should try it yourself,” Suzuki retorted. Hasegawa only laughed on the other end. Suzuki still didn’t know if the mixed nationalities girl wasn’t bothered by what other people said about her, or simply didn’t notice the intention. “Besides, some of us _like_ the benefit of studying every day, so we take account of our time when we have other plans.”

The words were enough to perk Hasegawa’s interest. “Oh, Akiko-chan has plans that don’t just involve homework?” she said, genuine skepticism in her voice. “But I thought all you did was classwork and running, aru!” _What happened to me being lazy, did you forget just saying that?_ “It’s coming! The end of the world is definitely coming!”

Suzuki stood up to pace. Now that it had been mentioned, she hadn’t gone for a run today. “You watch too many apocalypse movies.”

“Ehehe~. That’s ‘cause they’re so good, aru.” Suzuki didn’t exactly agree with the idea, but she didn’t exactly disagree, either. It was better to just not comment. Regardless of the answer, Hasegawa would always talk the other person’s ear off as a result. “But anyway, if you’re not doing homework all day, what are you going to be up to? I could barely ever convince you to go out with me, and here it’s only a few weeks into school and someone already got through to you? You’re replacing me, aru!”

Suzuki sighed. It was probably in her best interest then to keep it under wraps that the person dragging her out of the apartment was a boy, and this was a date, too. Sure, it wasn’t the most conventional definition of “date” in the world, but it still was one, even if Suzuki didn’t like Fukube. Hasegawa’s reaction was sure to be over the top as always if she found out.

But if she didn’t like him, why had she even said yes in the first place?

“It’s just a get together with one of my classmates,” Suzuki provided as cover. “They were going out to the shopping center to do some things and didn’t want to go by themselves. No one else would go with them, so they asked me.” It wasn’t technically a lie, since most of it was the truth anyway. Never before had Suzuki been so grateful for the gender neutrality of pronouns in the Japanese language.

Hasegawa hummed a bit, contemplating the words. “That just means you owe me then!” she decided. “Next time we see each other, you’re going out with me, not once, but twice! I won’t make you pay for anything, but you definitely owe me your company, Akiko-chan!”

Suzuki only laughed, not bothering to protest. There was no point in it. This sort of behavior was expected of Hasegawa, and it really wouldn’t be so bad. When it came down to it, Suzuki owed the Chinese-Japanese girl for being her friend for so long anyway. Actually acting like friends and hanging out together was the least Suzuki could do.

“Alright, I promise the next time we’re both in the same neighborhood, we can go out together,” Suzuki agreed. She was about to wait for Hasegawa’s reply, but was interrupted by her phone informing her that there was a call on the other line. “Ah, I’m sorry Jing Hua; my friend’s on the other line and probably wants to confirm our plans. Talk to you later, alright?”

“Okie dokie,” Hasegawa said. “I’ll talk to you later, aru. Hope you have a fun time today and good luck with your school work.”

Hasegawa hung up her phone, and Suzuki pulled her own phone away from her ear. Sure enough, it was Fukube’s number flashing on the screen, and Suzuki almost considered hanging up and calling the whole thing off without warning. It certainly would make her whole life easier, and she wouldn’t have to worry about her motives. She could just avoid other people and go back to studying for the rest of her university stay.

But did she really want that sort of thing?

“Fukube,” Suzuki greeted, a hard tone to her voice. She really wasn’t that angry though, and she wondered if Fukube would be able to mark it off as annoyance or not. “Is there any reason why you happen to have my phone number? I don’t recall sharing such a thing with you.”

Fukube only laughed, obviously not fazed. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, the tone of his voice light. “I happened to come across it when I was looking into you. I didn’t write it down or anything, but it turns out I remembered it okay. Imagine my surprise whenever I was flipping through our class directory to find you and I already knew the number!”

Suzuki didn’t know if she bought that. It sounded like a perfectly reasonable story, but at the same time, it had some sort of weird vibe to it. Fukube didn’t seem the type of person to be a liar, though, but the best liars never did. She shook the feeling off, not wanting it to get in the way. “If you’re going to claim to be a database, then you shouldn’t act so surprised over retaining information.”

“Oh, I guess you’re right.” Fukube laughed again. It was such a pure sound that Suzuki didn’t know if she could handle it. “But, there will be plenty of time for us to talk later, Suzuki-san. For now, we should settle the matter of exactly when and where we’ll be meeting up. I’m good to go whenever you are.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m good to go, too,” Suzuki said. She had bothered to get up and get dressed for the damn date anyway, might as well go on it. Besides, what else was she going to do with her day, anyway? Was this what university was all about, taking the chance to—

“Then why don’t we just meet up at the main entrance to the shopping center?” Fukube proposed. “Our places would take different bus routes to get there, so it would just be a waste of time to try and meet up beforehand. How does that sound?”

The only objection Suzuki had was that he knew her address already but didn’t bother to put it in words.

* * *

In addition to providing the cost of his tuition, Tanae’s parents were the type to send him an obnoxious allowance. He had never really known what their intents were by doing such a thing—it could be a number of things, really—but he assumed it was their way of hoping he would at least lead a standard of living that was presentable. After all, if your clothes were clean and you ate well enough, you could at least look like you weren’t a punk.

The thought made him want to roll his eyes. As if it was really that simple.

This approach hadn’t really produced the intended result throughout high school. If anything, it only made it worse. Tanae had taken the opportunity to blow his money on games that he had wanted, taking his friends out for food, or just really making impulse buys that hadn’t done much to improve his image. Regardless, his parents had kept trying.

Now, he was at a bit of an impasse. Right on time, the notice had arrived in his email that his parents had deposited his allowance into his account. As usual, it was far more than enough to live on and then some, but Tanae wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, he needed money to eat, but that wasn’t really an issue. As such, he was left with money to burn.

He didn’t know what he wanted to buy, either, considering his desire to change his image. There was no point in making impulse buys as an acceptable member of society. It would probably be best to just save the stuff, but at the same time it seemed like such a _waste_ to not buy anything.

Which was why he was in the shopping center, wandering around aimlessly. There were plenty of places to go, which only made the decision harder. Looking around, Tanae spotted a book store and thought of Hiraoka, reaching for his pocket on instinct.

_What the hell am I thinking, asking Kouna for advice? If it were her here, she would just go bankrupt on buying books, never mind how she would get it home or fit all of it into her apartment. _That wasn’t the goal that Tanae had in mind, but he guessed it couldn’t hurt to try reading a book every now and then.

Tanae shoved his hands into his pockets and entered the store. The girl at the counter seemed to shrink away a little, eyeing him warily. Tanae realized he was slouching on instinct and stood up straight. He really didn’t know where to start when it came to picking out books, but decided that maybe it wasn’t the best thing to ask right now.

_I guess I still look like a punk, huh?_ In that case, deciding to change wasn’t going to be enough. He was going to have to actually _do_ something about it. Tanae sighed and turned into a random aisle. This whole thing was turning out to be way more trouble than it had seemed like at first.

That wasn’t the only thing that made Tanae aware of just how out of place he was. He could almost _feel_ how long it had been since he was in a bookstore or library to actually find something to read as opposed to causing trouble. Maybe back when his sister had been young enough to not be able to go out shopping by herself? He had a hard enough time recognizing her age as it was.

The first aisle seemed to be a nonfiction section—_hell no_—and Tanae didn’t take any move that would indicate interest. The wall display that he almost ran into seemed to be filled with titles consisting of way too many kanji to possibly be enjoyable, so he rejected that as well. A few aisles down he discovered the manga section. That was Hiraoka’s thing, and there was no point in trying to buy her something that she probably didn’t have.

The magazine rack was obnoxiously large, each cover assaulting Tanae with colors and bold headlines. Just looking at it gave the boy a headache, and he was about to turn down the next aisle.

“Ah, it looks like the new _Mas Arai_ book is out! I’ve been wondering when the new release would be showing up since there hasn’t been word from the author in a while.”

“You know, I really didn’t picture you being into such girly things…”

“It’s not girly, it’s a mystery! Don’t go judging books by their covers, Suzuki-san.”

Tanae felt like he was going to faint, and leaned on a shelf for support. Looking at the book spines in front of him, he realized he was in the children’s aisle. Fortunately, it was empty, but he would have rather endured strange looks in opposition to having to deal with Suzuki again.

He hadn’t even done anything, but he still felt paranoid as hell about it. The cashier’s reaction had been enough to prove that others weren’t going to look on him kindly, and they didn’t even know him. Suzuki had watched him be a total ass to Mukui, and then beat him up for it. Sure, they were in public instead of a back alley, but for some reason, it didn’t really feel like Suzuki would care.

“…That being said, I really didn’t picture you as being a mystery fan, Fukube,” Suzuki commented. Tanae tried to match the name to a familiar person, but came up short. Maybe the person was one of Suzuki’s friends from before.

“Oh, really?” the voice of Fukube asked, a lilt of curiosity in his tone. He sounded sane enough, but so had Suzuki before she had started rattling philosophy off at him. “Is there a reason for that?”

There was a pause, and Tanae could almost imagine Suzuki shrugging. “Well, you just seem really hyper. Mysteries are supposed to pull you in, make you think about the case at hand, right? Although, I guess it’s possible to be a passive mystery reader and let the characters do all the work, but then you’re not really ‘reading’… Getting back on the topic, I just figured you’d be into action or romance.”

Yep, Suzuki was the same head case as always. The scary part was that Fukube only laughed.

“You really are bad at relying on your first impressions, huh? That’s a really bad way to look at things, especially whenever people are the worst at matching up to our expectations, both of ourselves and of others.”

Suzuki scoffed. Tanae flinched, almost bumping his head against one of the shelves one of the displays looked a bit unbalanced, and he took a step back to avoid causing a scene.

“I never said that I was solely relying on my first impression,” Suzuki retorted, but she almost sounded like she wasn’t angry. Tanae shook his head; surely the stress was getting to him. “People inherently rely on their first impressions whenever they meet a person. There’s nothing else to judge them by, so it’s what we’ve got. If you don’t use that, you don’t know how to treat someone. The problem only shows up if people refuse to change those impressions over time.”

Fukube laughed again, though this time it was less of a chuckle. “You know, if you’re still stuck for a major in a few years, you could always go into philosophy.”

“Ugh, no thanks, why would I want a degree that couldn’t get me a job? They only thing I could do with that is teach, and there’s no way in hell that’s happening.” The location of Suzuki’s voice had shifted, heading out of the aisle. There was a chance that she and Fukube would head farther back into the store, but Tanae wasn’t about to risk that. Knowing he didn’t have time to be graceful, he bolted for the store’s entrance, and went down to the next section of the mall for good measure.

He couldn’t believe he had spent that much time eavesdropping. What if Suzuki had caught him? She might be willing to let him go if they were just in the same place, but listening in on her conversations was a whole different ball game. On instinct, he reached a hand up to the now fading bruise on his face.

If he was going to change things, he couldn’t afford another one.

“That girl is completely nuts…” Tanae took the risk of saying. He frowned. Getting suspicious and thinking saying Suzuki’s name would summon her like some goddamn incantation was ridiculous. Besides, there were enough people around that their noise would surely cover up his voice. “But really, what the hell was she talking about?”

Everything Suzuki had said had come to her so naturally, like she didn’t even have to think to come up with stuff like that. Tanae thought back to the alley, suppressing a shudder. She hadn’t hesitated to say a single thing back then, either. That sort of honesty made her far more of a monster than her strength did.

_Agh, I came here to get my mind off this, not think about her!_ Normally, Tanae would have punched something to vent, but the nearest thing was a couple resting with their child, and even punching the bench they were sitting on was a bad place to start. Instead, Tanae looked around the stores for something to do, something that could help change things around.

_I guess… maybe… I could…_

Tanae shrugged. Getting a haircut was a good enough place to start as any.

It would at least be a hell of a lot more effective than sitting around in a bookstore.

* * *

For a date between two university students, it had gone quite well. Suzuki seemed to not be interested in anything in particular aside from exercise, and that wasn’t something Fukube considered date material. He was certain there were far more active couples that would, though, and had to stifle a misplaced laugh at the unfitting image of Oreki attempting something like rock climbing for a date—which was enough for Fukube to decide to stop thinking.

Now wasn’t the time to think about Oreki’s words—not when Suzuki was sitting across from him. Now wasn’t the time to worry if this was going to work out—so what if it didn’t? Now wasn’t the time to reconsider this whole thing, to wonder if it was best to call it off, go back home, dial that number that he _still_ had memorized, to have to apologize to Suzuki for wasting her time—

It was far too late for that.

As it was, Suzuki was oblivious to the turmoil of her date, eyes locked on the menu in front of her. Fukube was glad for it, sweeping all thoughts from his mind. The date had been going well up to this point, and there was no reason to ruin that. Fukube chuckled a bit as Suzuki furrowed her brow.

“You can order more than one dish if you like,” he offered, and the girl’s head popped up in response. “We really didn’t buy too much today, so I have enough money to splurge a little.” That being said, this would have to be the last thing this evening, considering how much Suzuki seemed to inhale when it came to food. However, this was well within the budget Fukube had set for himself.

“Thanks,” Suzuki said, closing her menu with a satisfied smile on her face. “Since you’re suddenly being such a gentleman, I’ll hold myself back and only order two dishes.” It was no wonder that she could spend so much energy on exercising; she certainly had the calories to burn.

Fukube decided that it was best to keep that comment to himself, putting on a playful pout instead. “Come on, don’t be so cruel, Suzuki-san. Saying ‘suddenly’ makes it sound like I wasn’t enough of a gentleman before…”

Suzuki rolled her eyes and scoffed without half of her usual annoyance. “That’s ‘cause I don’t consider you as having been one,” she bluntly stated. “The last I checked, gentlemen don’t go around digging into women’s private information and casually reference it like it’s some sort of game.” Fukube made a mental note to keep comments about her past to herself. “They also try to be more romantic whenever courting someone. You were just plain forward.”

For a second, she looked like she was smiling.

Fukube let out a short, nervous laugh. He briefly held up one hand in imitation half-prayer. “Then as a gentleman I apologize. I’ll also keep better track of my actions in the future.” He lowered his hand to his drink, adding, “It was never my intention to hurt or insult you.”

“That’s right. It was your intention to see the ‘real’ Suzuki Akiko,” she said. Her voice seemed to falter for a moment, but when she next spoke, the usual force was back in her words. “Fukube, I ran into Oreki-san the other day. He said that I shouldn’t pursue a relationship with you.” Fukube felt the moisture disappear from his mouth with no real reason behind it. “He said that there was something about you that wasn’t good for building interactions with other people…”

Suzuki pushed her bangs out her place and ended up toying with a strand of hair. It was so out of what Fukube would have expected that he would have teased her for it if he could find his voice. The only reassurance that she was the same person was the way she narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t really, but I wanted him to fuck off. I get that he’s your high school friend, but he wasn’t making any sense. I tried to get him to elaborate on it, but he wouldn’t budge. Said some bullshit about not understanding well enough.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “The only thing that made sense was that he told me to ask you. I’m not gonna force you to say anything, but I guess that I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know.”

Suzuki locked eyes with him, and Fukube couldn’t bring himself to look away, no matter how much he wanted to. Absentmindedly, he reached for his complimentary glass of water, taking a sip, the ice cubes bumping against his lips. Just as she had said, she wasn’t verbally pressuring him, but something about her expression was convincing enough.

“Suzuki-san,” he said, keeping check on his words, “do you want me to hurt you?” It wasn’t threatening, but Fukube still didn’t like how the sentence had come out. His voice was wavering, going away from the cheerful tone he usually presented.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t seem to reel it back in.

Suzuki scoffed. “If you think something like words can hurt me anymore, then you really don’t know as much about me as you thought,” she said.

Fukube laughed, the sound both genuinely happy and sad at once. “That’s what this is all about, remember?” he asked. When Suzuki didn’t respond, he lowered his eyes. “What Houtarou was talking about is kind of a long story, but I don’t think you need to know all of it. Can I just bring up the main point of what he was getting at and leave it there?”

“Sure.”

“I’m…not a fan of being obsessed with things,” Fukube said. The words didn’t seem right, but he didn’t know how else to describe it. The last time he had had to, he hadn’t been given an opportunity to think about it, just had been told to explain, so he had said whatever he wanted. Maybe this time…

Suzuki didn’t interrupt. Now was as good of a time as ever.

“I guess when it comes down to it, being obsessed with things scares me. I used to be obsessed with things all the time. But when you think about it, being obsessed means giving everything you have to something. You give it your entire existence, you don’t think about anything else, you make your entire world revolve around one little thing. And isn’t that what being in a relationship is all about?”

Suzuki shrugged. It might have hurt less if she actually said something.

“Houtarou knows I feel this way. He acts like he understands, but it’s kind of obvious he doesn’t.” After all, if he had understood then he wouldn’t have… “Putting that aside, I guess it is relevant to share something like this with you, considering that I _did_ ask you out. And I really am still scared of this; that much hasn’t changed…”

“So then why’d you ask?” Suzuki didn’t even seem annoyed that she had been dragged around on a wild goose chase all day. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Fukube had been paying for almost everything, but that still didn’t seem like a satisfactory return. “If you’re so scared of relationships, why’d you bother to ask me on a date and go with it?”

It was an honest question. Fukube didn’t have the right to refuse in this instance. “Well, a date isn’t really a sentence for a relationship,” he said, providing the same defense he had given Oreki previously. It suddenly struck Fukube that Suzuki _wasn’t_ Oreki, which gave her the tiniest chance of understanding. “And I thought, maybe, if I tried something, I could get over it…

“So then, Suzuki-san, if you received this warning, may I ask why you came?” Fukube tried to put himself into it, but couldn’t manage it properly. Suzuki never really seemed impressed by that part of him, anyway.

“Hell if I know,” Suzuki responded. She didn’t even need to think about it. Her resolve was amazing. “It wasn’t like I was going to let Oreki-san’s half-assed argument stop me. But beyond that, I just accepted your invitation because I did. Shouldn’t you be glad that I went along with what you hoped for, at least on the surface?”

It was such a Suzuki-like argument that Fukube didn’t doubt it for a second. Her lack of hesitation only made his much more prominent, made it feel like he wasn’t ready for this sort of thing just yet. The thought was scary.

“Besides, Fukube, you’re not the only one that does such selfish things in this world.”

It was probably better to just leave it at that.

* * *

Mukui was almost certain that he wouldn’t know what else to do with his life if it weren’t for studying. When it came down to university, there were a couple of types of people, especially when it came to study habits. There were obviously the slackers, then those who prioritized their studies but still made time for social engagements. And then, there were people like Mukui, who didn’t socialize well, so they spent almost all of their time on reviewing material, pushing themselves to perform at a top level.

Mukui had far exceeded his personal quota for studying for the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to relax. Whenever he tried—turning on some music, sitting down with a book—all he could do was get distracted. Studying automatically pushed everything else out of his mind as he worked to process the information. Whenever he stopped he was stuck thinking about Suzuki.

She had said that she wasn’t a suitable role model, but Mukui wasn’t sure that he believed that. After all, Mukui could only hope to be someone like her, even if it wasn’t reasonable. What was so wrong with wanting to be like someone who was strong? Whenever you were weak, it was all you could hope for.

Mukui cleaned up his desk of all traces of homework, packing up his bag for tomorrow. If he wasn’t careful, he would burn himself out. And if Suzuki wouldn’t help him, there had to be someone out there who would.

Sitting down at his computer, Mukui tried not to think about the fact that he was asking complete strangers for help.


	4. Monday, April 22

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Monday, April 22

* * *

It was sheer coincidence that Fukube met up with Oreki while walking to school that morning. They had happened to end up in separate apartment complexes when looking for housing due to space, but for Fukube, that had been fine. It wasn’t like having his friend any closer would make things easier. Even if they did live in the same building, Oreki would just insist that anything they needed to talk about could be handled over the phone anyway, unless it was serious, and even then Fukube would be the one making the trip anyway.

Plus, they were going to the same university. It was even more convenient to just meet up there.

Putting that aside, Fukube had been trying to at least arrive for his classes early, just to see what it was like. So far, he had been pretty pleased with it, considering that he didn’t have to worry about being late for his attendance-obsessed professor’s class first thing in the morning. However, today he had happened to be the tiniest fraction of a second late for his preferred train, and ended up on the next one instead.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, only a five minute difference in time. Fukube could deal with that. Getting out of the terminal, he happened to notice his friend plodding along and coming off his own train. On instinct, Fukube smiled, heading over towards him.

“Houtarou!” he called, Oreki’s head turning at the sound of his name. Fukube jogged as well as he could through a train terminal crowd, falling into place beside his friend. Oreki was taking his time like always, obviously not concerned by how much farther the walk was to school was. At least that much hadn’t changed. “Good morning.”

“Oh, hey, Satoshi,” Oreki responded. There was no utterance of ‘good morning’ in sight, but that was to be expected. It had always been Fukube to start out conversations like this anyway.

“How was your Sunday?”

Oreki shrugged. “Finished some homework. Read a book. Got a call from Aneki,” he reported. “She can’t seem to get used to the idea of me living on my own and being old enough to go to university. It sounds like she’s worried I’m not going to take care of myself or something.” _I would have been worried about that at one point, too._ Oreki turned to Fukube before the latter could voice his thought. “And yours?”

“Pretty good.” The question was a thinly veiled attempt at asking about the date without really having to ask about the date. Fukube wondered if that was part of the energy conserving strategy or something else. Considering how few and far between the energy conserving moments were these days, that probably wasn’t it. Oh well, it was better to get the question and answer session over with early on, anyway.

“My date with Suzuki-san went well, too.”

“Oh, did it?” The skepticism was evident in Oreki’s voice, and Fukube had to resist the urge to frown. Of course Oreki was going to react like this, but he didn’t need to be so obvious about it. Then again, making it subtle was probably too much effort in the first place. “You think that you’ll end up doing something together again?”

At that, Fukube had to pause. It was a difficult question to answer, after all. Suzuki hadn’t said anything about getting together again, and neither had he. She hadn’t said anything about this not working out, either. Despite all the time he had spent with the girl, Fukube wasn’t able to read her quite yet.

As such, the real Suzuki Akiko had eluded him that night, even if she had started to show herself at times.

“I don’t know,” Fukube answered. If Oreki had been skeptic about getting the truth, then being honest was the only way to counteract that. “I wouldn’t mind getting together with her again, though. Yesterday was a lot of fun, even if it had its rough spots. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I like her in any romantic sense, but Suzuki-san wouldn’t be a bad person to spend all of your time with. Once you get past her tough exterior—”

“_Satoshi_,” Oreki said, an unusual hard tone entering his voice. No, _hard_ wasn’t the right word, not with someone like him. _Blunt_ seemed to fit the situation better. Furthermore, he didn’t need to say anything else for Fukube to pick up on his meaning.

“_What_, Houtarou?” Fukube frowned a little, not liking how annoyed he sounded. When it came down to it, wasn’t he supposed to be the one moving on? Oreki shouldn’t be the one hung up on it when it wasn’t even his problem. “What do you want from me? It’s bad enough that you insist on bothering me about it. I can’t even go out with someone without you interfering and my date asking about why I’m not suitable to be in a relationship with.”

For a moment, Oreki had looked hurt—just the slightest dropping of his eyebrows, but it was _there_—but he was back to looking bored again, even if his voice betrayed him as anything but. “So she actually brought it up to you?”

Fukube couldn’t help but smile a little. “That’s just the kind of person Suzuki-san is.” Why he felt so proud about that escaped him. “She sounded pretty angry at you, too, Houtarou.”

“I figured as much…” Oreki muttered. It was worrisome, since muttering instead of thinking it seemed like a waste of energy, too. At this rate, Fukube was going to become more energy conscious than Oreki was supposed to be. “So did you tell her?”

“I did,” Fukube said. It almost sounded like a lie to him, no wonder Oreki looked skeptic. “And you know what? She didn’t seem to think it was an issue. She… Suzuki-san told me that it was alright to be selfish. I didn’t really say that I was using her, but she still pretty much told me it was alright…”

Fukube could feel himself smiling, just a little, even if it wasn’t an entirely happy one. Almost as if to counter it, Oreki frowned. “That doesn’t make it okay, and you _know_ it.”

“Of _course_ I know it, Houtarou,” Fukube snapped, turning to fully face his friend. Oreki came to a stop, and their eyes matched up. Fukube’s hands were shaking but he balled them into fists and ignored them. “I’ve known that. But you just don’t _understand_. I know you think this isn’t the answer, but if I don’t try something it’ll never change.”

Oreki at least looked a bit repentant, although his frustration was evident in the tiniest of ticks that only Fukube would have noticed. “I just don’t get how you think this is the right way to go, though,” he said, voice back to normal. “Or the right time. You still haven’t _told_ her—”

Fukube turned around, gaze locking on the path to school. Why did he even bother trying to talk to Oreki about this anymore? It was always the same conversation, and it never made him think any differently. For someone that had changed so much in the past few years, Oreki sure knew how to be stubborn.

“It’s been more than a month, Houtarou,” Fukube said. “I moved on a long time ago. I think it’s time you did, too.”

It felt more like a lie than anything, but Fukube wasn’t about to give his friend time to retort. He ran off to his classroom, knowing fully well that there was no way Oreki would chase after him.

* * *

Mukui yawned once his free period rolled around, settling into one of the seats of the library. He really didn’t need to get much work done for the next few days, but one of his classes had a research paper due, and it was better to get started sooner rather than later. He could probably have formulated several drafts and started refining his work by the time his classmates even decided to begin their research.

He was going to plan first at least, to make things go smoother. He could always research once he made it back to his apartment—that was what he had asked for whenever he requested a computer as his graduation present anyway. Although, to make up for lost sleep, there was the chance of going to bed early that evening, too.

The last night had been the first time that Mukui had used his computer for anything other than academic purposes, making him completely lose track of time. The number of people that had latched onto his request for help was incredible, even if some were only posting negative comments. In the end, there had been some who seemed genuinely interested in helping, although Mukui wasn’t sure that he was confident enough to take their advice now that it was broad daylight and he was a great distance away from his computer.

He had underestimated just how consuming the Internet could be. It wasn’t a mistake he would let himself make again.

_But still, how else am I going to get better? I just can’t not try something, but at the same time, I don’t know if anyone gave me very suitable advice._ When it came down to it, all the advice he had received weren’t things he could easily picture himself doing.

Mukui shook his head. This was no time to get distracted. Kids who got distracted from their studies easily became punks or underachievers. And even if he wanted to be strong, he didn’t want to just become another bully. That would be pointless, and other people would get hurt for the sake of making himself feel better.

_Someone strong, like a hero…_

“Hey there, Mukui-kun,” a voice whispered. Mukui looked up, meeting eyes with a girl he thought he recognized, but couldn’t put a name to her face. She seemed to pick up on this instantly, a pout forming on her lips. “Come on, don’t say you don’t remember me. I’m Hiraoka Kouna, we have history together?”

Hiraoka. The name sounded familiar, but Mukui hadn’t really bothered to put a face to it. Other than his professors and the people he interacted with at the success center, Mukui hadn’t even begun to identify his classmates. He studied alone, and that was what he had come to university for. Education took priority over friends.

“Man, you really don’t remember me at all.” Hiraoka sighed, slumping down into the chair on the other side of the table. Mukui didn’t remember giving her permission to do that, but she seemed like the type of person that would be dissuaded even if he said he was trying to focus on studies. “I guess I underestimated your character. I really didn’t think you’d go around studying even in your free periods.” She glanced over at the paper in front of him. “You’re already planning that paper out? The topic’s not even due for another month!”

Somehow, she managed to convey her surprise perfectly without breaking the library’s noise level rules. Mukui felt his cheeks heating up. Was it really such a bad thing to be prepared? After all, people on the university level were supposed to be taking their studies seriously.

_Am I really that weird?_

“Can I help you with something, Hiraoka-san?” Mukui asked, adjusting his glasses. A little attention wasn’t bad, but he really did need to focus. With his scholarships, letting his grades falter would make paying his tuition difficult. “I really would like to get some work done before I head out to lunch. You’re free to stay here and study if you like, but I don’t really have time to talk.”

He expected her to nod in understanding, maybe pull a book out of her bag. She didn’t. Hiraoka leaned a bit more across the table, almost grinning. “Whoa, that was so cool. I’ve never seen someone actually adjust their glasses while saying something with such a straight face,” she said, and Mukui was completely lost. “So Mukui-kun’s the super-serious academic _megane_ character, huh?”

Mukui could only stare. Not only was she not answering the question, but Hiraoka was pulling the conversation in a completely different direction altogether. He wasn’t going to get anything done at his rate. It was a shame, the library had always been such a nice place to study before.

“But, to answer your question,” said Hiraoka, “I wanted to ask you something that I’ve been curious about since class this morning.” Oh, she had wanted help with the lesson, then. Why hadn’t she just said so? History wasn’t Mukui’s tutoring forte, but he could at least attempt to help a little. “You see, I was wondering if you were the type to use your real name on online messaging boards.”

Mukui felt like an ice cube had dropped into his stomach, even if the library was perfectly warm. It wasn’t enough to make him sick, but he certainly felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t like his name was an uncommon one, and he didn’t have much creativity to come up with something else. Surely that hadn’t been enough for someone to pick him out, at least not yet?

“Um, Hiraoka-san, how did you know that?”

Hiraoka beamed. “Awesome, this looks like the start of a fun period of time,” she said, before smiling a bit wider. “I happen to be part of a bunch of forum sites, and I just came across this one post last night. I’m glad to know that it was you, Hero-kun.” _Hero-kun…?_ Once again, she read the expression on his face perfectly. “‘Cause being strong means you get to be a hero, right? At least that’s how I think of it.”

Once again, the words rang a bell, but Mukui couldn’t perfectly recall them. He really had stayed up too late if his memory was suffering this much. “So I take it you don’t use your real name online, Hiraoka-san?”

“Nope! I usually switch mine around all the time, but in this case, my username’s SideAffectMirai.”

Even if he could translate the English, it still made no sense to Mukui. Maybe that was what a username was meant to do. Completely confuse people with nonsense so that they had no chance of identifying you in the real world. Well, he hadn’t done that very well, but if he had known, he could have done it.

“‘You should focus on the good parts of yourself instead of looking at the bad parts. Everyone is good at some things and bad at others. Whenever you learn to accept that, you can gain enough confidence in yourself no matter what. That’s what being strong means,’” Hiraoka recited, repeating the message she had left on the boards last night. For a second she looked almost sage like. And then that dropped as she giggled softly. “At least that’s what Miyamoto-sensei made me believe.”

“Miyamoto-sensei?” Mukui asked. The name wasn’t one that Mukui recognized from any of his professors, but Hiraoka had a different class schedule than him. Maybe she had met someone else on campus that could help.

“My kendo instructor.”

“Ah.”

Maybe that was it. Maybe everyone that had something that made them strong just didn’t realize it, and instead latched onto something else as an idea of strength. That would explain Suzuki’s reaction. It would also at least give some sort of reason why Hiraoka seemed to consider her strength to be mental, even when she had something like kendo under her belt.

“It’s okay, that approach doesn’t work for you, I get it,” Hiraoka said. “I think maybe the reason why you’re dissatisfied with the answers you got is ‘cause you don’t know what you’re looking for. I mean, sure, you asked for help to become strong, but you need to figure out exactly what _being strong_ means to you first.” She smiled, almost knowing. “After all, if you knew what it was, you wouldn’t look so disappointed right now.”

She could read him like a book. It was terrifying. She could probably use that against him, even if she didn’t seem like that kind of person.

Mukui realized that he wasn’t quite sure if he trusted anyone anymore.

Hiraoka stood up, looking to the clock hung on the library’s wall. “Yeah, now would be a good time. Why don’t you think about what I said and come along with me? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

* * *

By now, Tanae was getting more than a bit sick of all the looks that he had gotten. He hadn’t been really specific when he got his hair cut, and now the once long strands were just barely extended past his scalp. He guessed it worked for now, though he’d probably change his mind once he got a decent idea of what he wanted. The only thing he had kept the same was the color, considering dying it again would just be a waste when the color would be pushed out as his hair grew anyway.

People seemed to think it was a reason to talk, like they knew him well enough to think it had impact on their lives. At least the traces of his black eye were only evident if you were looking for them, so that hadn’t been much of a topic. In time, the whispers would die out and everyone would move on. It was actually sad that people still found the time to gossip while in University.

Oh, now he was starting to sound like Suzuki. Fantastic.

Tanae was almost dreading heading into the cafeteria now. He had gotten used to people talking behind his back in middle school, and had let it slide through most of high school unless something really happened to piss him off. Now, he didn’t want to do that anymore. He just wanted to eat his lunch in peace.

“Jun-chan!” Hiraoka’s voice was distinct in the hallway, and Tanae decided that maybe _peace_ hadn’t been the word to use. At least _relaxing_ would probably fit, so long as Hiraoka was willing to let him sit down long enough and not drag him into something crazy. The girl smiled, her bag swung over her shoulder. “Let’s eat lunch together, kay? I’ve got somethin’ cool to talk to you about. You still want my help with the whole not be a bully operation, right?”

He really wished she wouldn’t talk about it so plainly, not to mention where other people could hear. No one seemed to be paying attention to them at all, but people tended to overhear things and take them the wrong way.

Tanae sighed.

“You gotta use the word ‘operation?’” he asked, but couldn’t quite bring himself to frown. The look on Hiraoka’s said way more than words could—he assumed it had something to do with manga and plot and arcs or something like that—so he didn’t let her answer. “Never mind. While I protest to the phrasing, yes, I want your help.”

Hiraoka grinned, and somehow it was possible for her face to stretch out more than it already had. “Super,” she said, the word not even sounding outdated on her lips. “So come on, let’s go pick out a secret base somewhere on campus and talk about it. There’s the best hidden table down by the trees on the south side of the quad. No one will even suspect it.”

She was grabbing onto Tanae’s wrist before he could think to act to stop it, and she had successfully dragged him a meter down the hall before Tanae managed to plant his feet. Hiraoka stopped walking, pouting as she looked over her shoulder. Her grip on his wrist was insanely solid, and Tanae only knew he’d be free of bruises from Hiraoka’s control, and nothing more.

_Come to think of it, why’d I make friends with such a scary person in the first place?_

“As fun as this sounds,” Tanae said, somehow lacking sarcasm, “I need to buy myself something for lunch first.”

Normally he would have gone and bought a bento before classes, but Tanae had somehow forgotten. There were plenty of convenience stores within walking distance, but he actually liked to sit down and _enjoy_ the food he was eating, even if it _was_ a convenience store bento. By the time he could make the walk, he would be lucky to be able to get through half of his lunch before classes started.

It was the only reason he had come close to the cafeteria in the first place.

Hiraoka didn’t even seem to take his objection as a real issue. She plowed forward, easily throwing off Tanae’s center of balance and the foundation he had managed with it. It really would have just been easier to fall over and let her drag him around than try to keep up, and that applied on both the mental and physical fronts.

“Don’t be silly, Jun-chan, I made you lunch this morning.”

She had made him lunch? Tanae didn’t remember her sending him a text or saying anything about it. Had Hiraoka been trying to surprise him? If that was the case, she certainly had succeeded.

“Come on, Hero-kun, follow along!”

“Hero-kun?” Tanae asked, not registering the nickname. She had just called him the same old _Jun-chan_ as always, so Hiraoka couldn’t have meant him. It suddenly registered for Tanae that there had been a third person with them and he hadn’t even noticed.

Furthermore, that person just happened to be Mukui Shinju.

“Hold on a minute!” Tanae protested, and this time, Hiraoka actually did stop. Mukui winced, looking down the hall. He probably wanted to run away but Tanae couldn’t blame him. Whatever Hiraoka was thinking needed to stop before things got any more out of hand. “This is important, Senpai. What are you thinking?”

Hiraoka pouted, but relented her grip on Tanae’s arm. He didn’t dare move away, though. “It’s simple, really. You want to stop being a bully.” Mukui looked up, his mouth dropping open a bit, fear becoming chock. “Hero-kun here wants to be strong. Achieving your goals is so much easier whenever you have someone working for the same exact thing, don’t you think?”

She grinned. Tanae wanted to explain that it wouldn’t work, but couldn’t bring himself to. She couldn’t have known about him bullying Mukui. If she had, the two boys would have been in a forced reconciliation as they spoke. That was just the kind of person that Hiraoka was.

Tanae shifted his gaze to Mukui. The smaller boy flinched back a bit, and Tanae repressed a sigh. If Hiraoka was going to have her way, they were going to need to work on that. Tanae bowed.

“I look forward to working with you, Mukui-kun,” he said. Hiraoka gasped.

“Wow, that move just came out of nowhere! I think I’ll call it your Surprise Chivalrous Attack! Although, adding ‘attack’ suddenly makes it seem a whole lot less chivalrous… But you two already know each other, so this works out perfectly!”

Mukui only stared for a moment. Tanae willed him to just play along for now. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of Hiraoka. He didn’t want to make a scene at all.

After what seemed like an excruciating amount of time, Mukui finally nodded. “I look forward to working with you, Tanae-san,” he said. His voice was cautious.

Tanae would take it.

* * *

Some days, joining the track team seemed like it would be worth it. There would be a competitive environment sent up, there would be a challenge, and the track would always be open. And then Suzuki thought about the teamwork and the meetings and the regimens and she kicked the punching bag with enough force that a tear started to form in the leather.

Even if she was a selfish person, not having to exercise in the workout center instead of running wasn’t worth all that trouble.

“I knew it, these punching bags were no good at all.” A sigh. Suzuki blinked, backing a bit away from the girl that had suddenly appeared in her vision. She was another member of the freshman class, and they were in one of the same classes, but Suzuki tended to tune everyone else’s names out during roll call. And if this girl was the type to stand between a punching bag and the person kicking it, maybe not knowing her was for the best.

Suzuki needed a break anyway.

Suzuki headed back to the bench that was hosting her bag, squirting water into her mouth. Some of it missed, but she was covered in sweat already. It didn’t really matter. She didn’t get it, though. Today had been peaceful and no one had bothered her. And yet Suzuki still felt like her muscles were twitching whenever she stood still.

“That was a really good kick, though! Great form! I bet a few more of those and you’d split the thing. Wouldn’t that be cool?! Although, it wouldn’t be as cool from the janitor’s perspective or the people paying for these things… Isn’t it nice that protagonists never have to worry about any of this stuff??”

It seemed like the girl had the intention of following her around. Suzuki frowned but monitored the tone of her voice. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, right! Hehe, this is the perfect example of an enigmatic introduction of a new character phase! My name’s Hiraoka Kouna and we have our Introduction to Psychology course together!” The girl smiled, then leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Although, aside from that, I’ve heard a lot about you, Suzuki-chan.”

_So she’s the rambling otaku nut job type. Got it._ Suzuki went to squirt more water into her mouth. “Did Fukube send you?”

Hiraoka recoiled, but straightened herself up quickly. “Oh, I guess that makes sense as an arc! But no, I came to talk to you all on my own because I was curious,” she said. She almost sounded proud. “But! I did come to ask you about your date with Fukube-kun, though.”

“That’s none of your business,” Suzuki retorted. She threw her now empty water bottle back into her bag, slinging the latter over her shoulder. She wasn’t dealing with this. Looking over to the treadmills, Suzuki saw one between two that were being used. Hopefully Hiraoka wasn’t too persistent.

Hiraoka followed, not taking the hint. “Come on, no need to be touchy. I’m just looking out for you!” She gasped. “He didn’t mistreat you or anything, did he? It’s always the cute and goofy ones that have secret dark sides. Are you feeling alright, Suzuki-chan?! You’re not hurt are you?!”

She was shouting. The whole school was going to find out at this point. Suzuki shouldn’t have cared, but she didn’t need people to see her like a victim. Especially not to someone like Fukube. Sure, he had been different than her expectations, but it hadn’t been anything too bad.

His reputation seemed much less important at the moment.

“It wasn’t like that at all.” Suzuki stretched a bit, took out her second water bottle, made sure there was a towel nearby, and set the treadmill’s settings to low. _Just a little bit more. Surely she’ll go away soon._

“That’s all I needed to know!” Hiraoka chirped. “Although, watching a real athlete in action is completely different than anything else. Could I watch you, pretty please?”

Suzuki didn’t look over her shoulder. Seeing Hiraoka’s face would only make her want to punch it, more than likely. Suzuki sighed. “You can stay if you don’t talk,” she allowed. That way, Hiraoka would be easy to ignore. Not wanting to say anything else, Suzuki turned up the speed, trying to get a feel of how fast she wanted to go.

“Got it!” Hiraoka called, not saying anything else. She probably sat down somewhere afterwards. Suzuki tried to forget about her, but it seemed like the other girl’s gaze was burning into her head.

At least it made sense why she had so much energy to burn off now.


	5. Thursday, April 25

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Thursday, April 25

* * *

As far as Suzuki was concerned, the week seemed to be passing by too slow to even be considered a week anymore. She had woken up in the morning with the hope that, maybe, it was Friday already, but she couldn’t even be that lucky. She had plodded to the school without much enthusiasm and without even going for a run in the morning. She would have to do some extra running after classes, but the concept was more of a nuisance than it should have been.

Hiraoka Kouna. Suzuki couldn’t go so far as to call the other girl a stalker, but she was there a good percent of the time. She absolutely insisted on exercising, and while she certainly wasn’t out of shape, Hiraoka lacked the endurance to even provide some form of competition out on the track. Even when Suzuki had tried to discourage the other girl, it had no effect.

_She says that she wants to use me as a reference, but for what? Even if she has some fighting aptitude, I doubt that she has the constitution to be a marathon runner… What a pain in the ass._

Despite her best efforts, Suzuki couldn’t figure Hiraoka out. She was an even worse mystery than Fukube, and he could barely make efforts to explain himself. Hiraoka didn’t bother to explain herself, like she thought all of her actions were normal. At this rate, Suzuki would probably get more stressed out over them than her actual coursework.

She sighed, dropping her bag on the table and sitting down. Several of the academic buildings had small study areas built into them. More often than not, there were groups of students sitting around in them and chattering about senseless things, but Suzuki had found one out of the way that nobody seemed to use.

Except today that wasn’t the case.

“That’s right, Suzuki-san, you do eat your lunch here. Heheh, don’t mind me, I’m just working on an assignment. I won’t bother you at all.”

“Why do you insist on playing dumb, Fukube? It’s pretty damn pointless you know,” Suzuki spat out, grinding her teeth together. Had she really been so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed him sitting there? She resisted every urge to kick the boy underneath the table. “I’d rather you just admit that you knew I’d be here so you came to talk to me.”

Fukube chuckled. Suzuki wished that, for once, he would have the decency to act ashamed by his actions. It probably wouldn’t happen, though. “You caught me,” he admitted, a smile stretching across his lips. Afterwards, he winced. “But I really do need to finish up this assignment, so it can wait until you finish eating…”

Suzuki sighed, pulling her stack of bento out, glancing at the paper in front of Fukube in the process. Instead of working on his assignment, he was too busy staring down her lunch. Suzuki could feel a headache coming on already. “That’s why you do so horrible at everything, you put things off til the last minute.”

Fukube jumped, his eyes avoiding hers. “Oh, come on, Suzuki-san, you can’t tell me you don’t procrastinate at times. I mean, you even take time out of your day to always go running. Really, it has to be hard to get everything done ahead of time, right?”

“I finished that last week,” Suzuki deadpanned. Fukube’s head dropped, almost hitting against the table in the process. Suzuki thought the impact might do him good. “Honestly, it’s easy to get things done since you know everything beforehand. Although, maybe if you didn’t spend so much time looking through people’s private information, you could focus more on your studies.”

“It’s not like that; the only person I looked into was you!” Fukube protested.

“Pervert.”

Fukube visibly winced. It was more satisfying than Suzuki thought it would be. “I think I liked it better when you called me ‘creepy,’ Suzuki-san.”

“Your opinion has nothing to do with it!” Suzuki slammed the lid of her bento onto the table. Maybe if she ate she would feel better. Without hesitation, Suzuki jammed the first bite of lunch into her mouth. “Ugh, I still can’t believe you looked into me because I reminded you of someone. Is this person really that important to you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Fukube said. Suzuki wasn’t sure, but she thought he frowned for a second. It was gone quickly, though, like it never happened. “It’s just that I mistook you for being similar, so, like I said, I wanted to know more about you. I figured that if I looked into you first, I’d have a good foundation for at least talking to you.”

Suzuki took another bite, chewing it slowly. So that was how it was, then. He was using her to replace someone else. In that case, he had to be lying. From what little she had learned about Fukube in the past week, he would only do something like that if this person mattered.

“You’re such a dumbass,” Suzuki said. Fukube fell silent. “Honestly, you’ve made friends before, right? So then you should know that the proper way to get to know someone is to talk with them and spend time with them. You said it yourself, that data can only go so far. Wouldn’t the logical next step then be to start off by just spending time with people instead of looking into them?”

“Yeah, that would be the conclusion, wouldn’t it,” Fukube admitted. He smiled. Suzuki wanted to curse. She couldn’t read him at all. “But I thought I told you that I’m not the type of person that can make conclusions like that. I am a database, after all.”

Suzuki frowned. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Oh, did I not explain it to you?” Fukube let out a quiet laugh. Suzuki didn’t like it. “My bad, then. See, it works like this. It means that people who pride themselves on collecting information shouldn’t try to overstep their boundaries. I’m a database. All I can do is regurgitate what I know. What I can’t do is put those things together into end results like other people can.”

Suzuki scoffed. What complete bullshit. “I take it back,” she said, on the verge of spitting out the words. Fukube’s smile dropped. “You do so horribly because you let ideas like that get to you.” She took a bite, but he didn’t provide a response. “Fine, if you won’t think it through, I’ll do it for you. You realized you had an affinity for being a database, so you made that your specialty. And then you decided that was all you were good for, so there was no point in drawing conclusions again—which, by the way, _is_ a conclusion, and a shitty one at that. Am I getting close?”

“Well, it’s not quite like…” Fukube’s eyes looked away as his words died off. He didn’t look back to her. He didn’t finish his sentence either. It took effort for Suzuki not to yell at him for it.

“What? It’s not? Did someone tell you that then?” she probed. There was still no response. No sense in pushing it if asking made someone like Fukube shut up. “That doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m going to be blunt. Wherever you got it from aside, it sounds like an excuse to me Fukube. It’s sounds like you’re so afraid of making mistakes that saying you ‘can’t draw conclusions’ exempts you from making decisions altogether.”

Fukube flinched, his eyes widening. Finally, he let his gaze meet up with Suzuki’s again. “Is that really how it is?” he asked. The usual cheer was out of his voice. Suzuki realized she it was more frustrating to deal with Fukube whenever he wasn’t being annoying.

_That’s just messed up._

“I don’t know, is it?” She had to turn the question around; she didn’t have an answer. “I’m just theorizing here, you know. You can’t expect me to understand you when we’ve only known each other a few weeks.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true…” Fukube eyes drifted down to his assignment. “Though you’re definitely something, Suzuki-san. Not even Houtarou has gone and called me out like that.” He attempted another laugh. It sounded hollow on Suzuki’s ears. She didn’t like the idea of being compared to Oreki much, either.

“Ugh, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass?” Suzuki grumbled, putting her lunch aside. There was no way to enjoy her lunch with Fukube moping around like that. “This isn’t the time to be analyzing your own psyche whenever you have an assignment due in the next couple of hours.” She reached a hand into her bag, sorting through its contents.

Realization seemed to dawn on Fukube, like he just realized what he had been staring at. “Yeah, you’re right, Suzuki-san. Sorry to bother you when I wasn’t supposed to be a hassle.”

Suzuki slammed her notebook on the table hard enough to make her chopsticks and Fukube jump at the same time. “Oh, shut it. You’re always a hassle, Fukube,” she growled. “But at least if you’re going to be one, don’t half-ass it. You’ve already wasted my time enough, so let’s get this over with.”

“Um, not to sound like all I care about is my ego or anything, but should you really say things like that to someone you went on a date with…?”

Suzuki rolled her eyes, flipping through the folders inside her notebook in search of her own copy of the assignment. “I’ll say whatever I want, regardless of if we went on a date. Now I’ll help you out with your homework, so sit back and be grateful! Ugh, you even take up time from the tutors, and you _still_ can’t finish your work on time…Wait a minute.”

She had flipped through the pages with enough force that she had dislodged a piece of paper. Suzuki glared at it. She never folded her papers in half, and she didn’t leave them between pages of her notebooks either. This one broke both of those rules.

“Um, Suzuki-san…?”

“What the hell is this supposed to be?”

* * *

Mukui wasn’t really feeling in his comfort zone right now. It was true that he and Tanae needed to talk about the current situation and that Hiraoka’s current interference had prevented them from doing so, but Mukui still wasn’t ready to be in the same room with a guy who had bullied him just a little over a week ago. Hand in his pocket, Mukui gripped onto his lucky coin for support.

“Okay, let’s get this done and out of the way, got it?” Tanae said. Even when he was sitting on the other side of the room and had a haircut, he still seemed intimidating. Mukui could only nod in response. “Listen, I’m really sorry about what I did last week. I know that doesn’t make up for anything, but I’m sorry anyway.” Tanae looked away a bit, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah.”

Tanae looked back to Mukui, who almost jumped. Tanae didn’t say anything more, and Mukui realized that he was probably supposed to say something in response. “Oh, um,” he managed. The fact that Tanae was as nervous as he was a small comfort.

Tanae sighed a bit. He was probably disappointed at the less than impressive attempt as moving the conversation forward. “Listen, I know you’re probably not going to believe me, but I really do want to stop being a bully like Kouna says. I don’t know why she had to drag you into it, but I guess we’re working together now, so could you help me out?”

Help? How was Mukui supposed to help when he didn’t know the first thing about being a bully? Sure, he knew what it was like _to be_ bullied, but that was a different ballgame altogether.

“Um, I don’t know how much help I’ll be at something like that,” Mukui admitted, his voice weak. It was good that he had managed the words, but not much else. _So I need to work on being louder whenever under pressure…_ “I didn’t even make the decision to get stronger on my own; it was all Hiraoka-san…”

Tanae let out a sigh, the sound almost combining with a non-feral growl. “Ah, sorry about Kouna,” he said, almost sounding embarrassed. “She gets like that at times and there’s really not much of a chance of stopping her…Though if you wanted her to leave you alone, I could talk to her about it. I can’t guarantee I could get far, but I’d at least be willing to try.”

Mukui considered the offer. It could be a chance to deal with an ordinary life again. He wouldn’t have to almost have a panic attack every time he was within a radius of Tanae, and he could go back to focusing on his schoolwork again. That had been his plan when he came here, to prioritize academics and forget everything else…

_But that would mean being the same person I’ve always been._

“Um, I don’t think that’s necessary Tanae-san,” Mukui said. Tanae raised an eyebrow, and Mukui had to feel his coin between his fingers before he could continue. “It’s true that Hiraoka-san dragged me into this, but it’s not like she was forcing her ideology onto me or anything. It’s a bit different than I imagined, but I wanted something like this, so it’s okay.”

Mukui didn’t know where it had come from, but he had the strength to smile then. Hiraoka was strange, so what? That didn’t need to make what she was trying to do mean anything less. And really, after the sense of helplessness Suzuki’s words had left him with, maybe getting forced into change was really what he had needed.

“Alright man, if that’s what you want,” Tanae said, not sounding impressed. “If you change your mind, let me know, though. It’s the least I can try to do for you. There’s no way in hell I’m ever going to get out of this sudden character reformation camp, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a chance.”

Mukui laughed. It was weak and more of a chuckle than anything else, but it was still a laugh. “Thanks, Tanae-san.” He never thought he would say those words. And yet here it was.

“It’s nothing, really…” Tanae muttered. “Kouna would just have my ass if she found out I wasn’t even trying to do anything to help, so…”

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Hiraoka-san close?” Mukui said.

“_Hunh_?”

For a moment, Tanae looked the same as he had before, leaning forward with an almost taunting look on his face, his eyebrows angled in a way that made it intimidating. Mukui’s heart rate sped up, and he took a step back.

“Um, well, it’s just that you two call each other by your given names, so I just thought…” Mukui trailed off. What had he thought? That maybe there was something going on between them? It sounded more ridiculous the more he thought about it. Even if they were friends, that didn’t mean they had to be an item, just because they were a boy and a girl.

But what else was he supposed to think when she called him “Jun-chan” all the time?

“Yeah, well, I guess we’re close,” Tanae said. Mukui tried not to let his imagination go haywire, but it didn’t work. He was stuck with the idea of Hiraoka and Tanae—who for some reason still had his hair long—going out to cafés and trading off cutesy pet names. Mukui felt a bit lightheaded. “I mean, we’ve known each other since middle school and she’s been my friend ever since. But that’s about it really.”

Mukui sighed. He hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath. “Middle school, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s not an interesting story, so I won’t bore you with it, but she’s always been like this.” Tanae looked away again, and Mukui wondered if the former bully was just as uneasy as he was. “It’s probably because she’s so weird that she put up with me this long”

“Must be nice,” Mukui said without thinking. Tanae gave him a confused look. “To have someone stick with you like that for so long.”

Tanae shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I never really thought about it.”

The dismissal hit him. It only made him feel more pathetic. Even someone like Tanae had a close friend. It didn’t matter that Hiraoka was strange and full of quirks. She was still a friend. Mukui had never had that. He had been so focused on his schoolwork and afraid of others when the bullying started that he had never reached out to other people.

The feeling inside of him now was strange. It was more than self-pity. He wanted to laugh at it a little, but Tanae was standing right there, and he would have called him out about it.

Despite everything Tanae had done to him, Mukui was jealous.

* * *

“I mean, it just looks like average handwriting,” Fukube reported. Suzuki frowned at him like it would change the results. “Don’t look so cross about it. It’s not like I’ve seen the handwriting of everyone in our year, and even if I had, I’m no handwriting expert. I’m sorry I couldn’t help, but…”

“Useless,” Suzuki grumbled, kidnapping the note back from him. Her eyes moved back and forth as she read the note again. “Like I said, all you know is a bunch of useless information…”

Fukube tried not to take the insult to heart. Suzuki had been getting increasingly irritated as the day moved on past lunch. At least she had gone through with her promise to help out on his homework assignment, but from there was unstoppable. Once classes let out she immediately recruited Fukube into assisting the efforts of finding out who the note’s sender was.

_“It’ll be payback for me doing your homework for you,”_ she had said. Fukube couldn’t argue with that. And in the end, it worked out as an excuse to spend more time with Suzuki.

_She really is something else…_

Fukube hadn’t figured out the exact reason why he insisted on sticking around her. Initially, Suzuki had reminded him of _her_, even if that was quickly disproven. From a distance, they were the same. Up close, they weren’t. Fukube could have apologized and moved on with his university life. But he was still here, and that worried him.

_I can’t let myself get obsessed with her. I don’t think that’s what this is, but I can’t take any chances. Suzuki-san said that her accepting my date offer was just her making a selfish decision, but I don’t think I can just accept that answer…_

There was a reason that he didn’t try to figure things out. It never went anywhere. He just wasn’t built for that sort of thing.

Besides, Fukube didn’t have time to worry about those sorts of things. Suzuki had recruited his help, so he better give it. She was worked up, trying to figure out just who had sent the note and how it had gotten into her notebook in the first place. It almost seemed like she cared more about the latter, but Fukube was more bothered by what it said.

_Try and be more aware of the people around you. Don’t let questions go answered. The things you’re wondering about are ones you deserve to know._

It was a cryptic message for sure, and there was no doubt that Suzuki had been the intended recipient since her full name was written at the top in unfamiliar handwriting. Even with all of his experience with mystery novels and the Classics Club, Fukube couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“Maybe it’s just a practical joke,” Fukube suggested. Suzuki had started grinding her teeth and tapping her fingers against her leg. It was the most frustrated he had seen her, even though the behavior didn’t surprise him in the slightest. The fact that she had gotten in fights throughout high school was paired up with her temper. “I mean, what if you’re not supposed to take this seriously? Someone could just be messing with you.”

“So what?! Even if it’s just a joke, I want to know who it is!” Suzuki exclaimed. She hit the table that they were sitting at. Since they were outdoors, a few passerby paused to stare, and Suzuki automatically shot them glares before taking a deep breath. “We’re a bit old for playing jokes on strangers, right? So even if what they just wrote me was complete nonsense, I can explain that I don’t appreciate it when I should be spending my time on studying.”

Fukube got the sense that that particular encounter wouldn’t be as peaceful as Suzuki made it sound. It wasn’t fair for him to try and make a conclusion, though, so he kept the thought to himself. “Maybe we should do something to relax in the meantime. It’s not good to try and figure out a problem when you’re frustrated.”

Suzuki stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath that released some of the tension from her shoulders. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I should go for a run instead…”

“Most people wouldn’t consider that relaxing,” Fukube commented. Then again, he didn’t know much about what it was like to exercise at such an intense level. He shrugged, grabbing onto his pencil and beginning to tap it against the table. “Though, that’s just if you ask me.”

Suzuki folded her arms and rested her chin on top of them. Her eyelids drooped a bit. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’m just out of ideas of what to.” She blew a strand out of her face, eyes turning to the ceiling. “To be blunt, I suck as much at solving mysteries as you do, Fukube.”

The insult flowed off of her lips like it was nothing. Fukube couldn’t even manage getting hurt by it. Sure, sometimes her words still stung, but Suzuki never really meant it what she said to him. From what he could tell, it was something she did on instinct, something without thinking or realizing.

A defense mechanism.

“So do we just give up then?” Fukube asked. It was a filler statement. Suzuki would never accept the idea, so a suggestion like that was pointless.

As expected, Suzuki frowned, her aimless gaze becoming a glare within a matter of seconds. “Absolutely not,” she denied. Fukube nodded in agreement, causing his shin to suffer some damage from Suzuki’s foot. “Being wise involves acknowledging your weaknesses. When you are not wise about something, you turn to someone who is. So we just need someone who’s good at figuring out mysteries, like a private eye or something.”

Her words sounded vaguely familiar, and Fukube took a moment to search through his mental database for the answer. Fortunately, Suzuki just seemed to take it as him trying to find an answer to her actual question.

_Right, that was it._

“I didn’t peg you as the type to read the Bible, Suzuki-san.”

Suzuki scowled. “It’s just from Proverbs, calm down. Now do you have an answer or not?”

This time, Fukube put some serious thought into it. He didn’t know everyone on campus, but he had learned at least basic information on the freshman class. There had to be someone that could help figure this out. _Someone like a private eye…_

Why was he even bothering to think about it? The answer was obvious.

“I know someone,” Fukube said, and Suzuki perked up instantly. He would have given her the answer, too, if the conversation hadn’t been interrupted.

“Come on, Hero-kun, Jun-chan! We gotta get started—eeh, Suzuki-san’s here with a boy?! No wonder you weren’t in the gym today! Is this your boyfriend?”

The sound of Suzuki’s head hitting against the table mixed in with her groan. Fukube blinked, looking at the trio that had suddenly arrived. He could pull up their names without even thinking. There was Tanae Jun, Mukui Shinju, and—

“Hiraoka Kouna-san?”

* * *

Tanae and Hiraoka walked off of campus, heading for their respective apartments. They didn’t live in the same complex, but the ones they did live in were close enough that Tanae didn’t mind walking Hiraoka to her door, even if she would just pick on him for it. He could take that, too. After all, taking care of the people close to them was something you did when you weren’t a bully, right?

Mukui had gone home earlier, using his homework as an excuse. It was obvious that he was just feeling awkward though, his eyes jumping around all over the place. Tanae sighed. If Hiraoka wanted that kid to be a hero, she was going to have a hell of a lot of work ahead of her.

“I can’t believe it, though, a real life mystery!” the girl in question cheered, throwing her hands up into the air. Tanae had to shoot glares at staring passerby just to avoid causing a scene. Maybe it was a good thing he still looked like a punk, even if it was for something like this. “What do you think, Jun-chan? Whodunnit?”

“Beats me,” Tanae responded. He really didn’t have the slightest clue, and he couldn’t figure out what was so exciting about figuring out where some note could from either. But sure enough, Hiraoka had to agree to help, even though Suzuki hadn’t asked.

“You need to put more energy into it Jun-chan. Reach for the skies!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Suzuki, though. He just couldn’t get away from her. At this rate, they’d be stuck together throughout all of university. Tanae didn’t really want that, but he might not have been able to avoid it, either. Chances were, he would just have to get over it.

Getting over what he had overheard, though, that would be something different. There was no doubt that Tanae had unintentionally eavesdropped on Suzuki and Fukube having a conversation before. Making matters worse, they had been together, tucked away at some table behind the trees where no one could see them.

So were they an item or what?

Tanae couldn’t believe that he wanted to know.

“Really, though, this’ll be a great opportunity for you and Hero-kun to get some real experience,” Hiraoka continued. “I mean, sure, training is good and all, but real life is what really matters. So in that case, try and think about what you can do differently while you’re at home tonight, okay?”

Hiraoka smiled at him. Tanae could only nod. “Sure, I’ll do it.”

“Alright! Since that’s the case, let’s work hard tomorrow, Jun-chan!”

And Hiraoka ran off ahead of him, sprinting without care. Tanae secured his bag in hand and followed.


	6. Friday, April 26

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Friday, April 26

* * *

Mukui set his tray down at the lunch table, the resulting clatter almost as much as a result of gravity as it was of his shaking hands. He sat down next to Hiraoka, who was beaming with such intensity that the duo on the other side of the table seemed more awkward than Mukui felt. The exceptions were Oreki Houtarou, who looked positively bored, and Tanae, who was halfway through his bento.

“Well, now that we’re all introduced,” Hiraoka chirped, “let’s get down to business. We have a mysterious and cryptic note with no sender, and we need to find the culprit!” She smacked the table to accentuate her words. Mukui wondered just which TV drama she happened to watch and learn that trick from. “Oreki-kun, you’re our resident detective, right? What do you think?”

Oreki apparently had solved several mysteries in his high school days, even if they were just minor ones. Mukui had heard about it from Fukube the previous day, but the boy wasn’t sure if he was willing to believe it. After all, Oreki rarely ever spoke up in class, and did nothing more than take notes and space before shuffling out of the room.

The supposed detective didn’t seem to be happy about being referred to as such, but he didn’t seem displeased either.

“Well, it’s not as if I’m a walking handwriting analyzer,” he dryly commented. “That’d be the quickest way to figure things out.” Sitting across from Mukui, Fukube looked away and frowned.

“Oh, oh, are there any of those around?” Hiraoka shot in. “This is a pretty up and coming school. Surely there are all sorts of geniuses waiting to be found. Someone’s gotta be able to figure it out by just looking at it, right?!”

Suzuki shook her head before swallowing. “I think you’re misunderstanding the reasons why this school is ‘up and coming,’” she said, resuming shoving food into her mouth afterwards. She easily had the biggest lunch at the table, and seemed intent on eating it all. Mukui wondered if strength was connected to one’s diet, and considered changing his food choices. Even Tanae was eating more than the usual person.

“She’s right, Kouna. Don’t get your hopes up for something we won’t find,” the former bully in question said.

Hiraoka’s eyebrows furrowed, and she pouted, ducking her chin down to her chest. “You’re supposed to call me _Senpai_,” she grumbled. Mukui frowned as well, looking over the girl. Even though Hiraoka had joked about it before, she had never insisted on it when Tanae forgot, and Tanae forgot _a lot_. Mukui wondered what the big deal was.

And then he saw Suzuki’s face.

She was smirking, her eyebrows raised. Tanae had shut up, frowning into his noodles. Mukui realized that was what Hiraoka had been aiming for, and the girl picked her smile back up, a finger twirling around one of the strands of hair coming out of her left bun. “Alright, next point,” she instructed.

Suzuki finished off a bottle of water, reaching to her duffle bag and pulling out another. “I dunno,” she said, twisting off the new bottle’s cap. “I got stuck, which was why I asked for help. Really, I was betting everything on Oreki here.”

Reliance on others. It occurred to Mukui that there were things that not even Suzuki would do and needed help on. Her dismissal made it hurt, though. How could she say that like it was nothing, like it wasn’t really a flaw? The more Mukui listened, the more desperate he felt.

Oreki seemed just as displeased, though it was probably for different reasons. “Really, I can’t figure anything out since we’re lacking in clues,” he said, not sounding disappointed at all. “Unless you happened to think of a person that would tell you that someone was hiding things from you?”

Suzuki’s brow furrowed in thought, and she fiddled with her chopsticks. “No, not really.”

“So then we need more clues, right?” Fukube suggested, a bright smile on his face. Oreki grimaced, and his friend laughed. “Come on, Houtarou, I know it’s your least favorite part of mystery solving, but an investigation is the only way we’ll move forward. So we should get to it, right?”

Oreki exhaled through his nose, not meeting eyes with anyone at the table. Oddly enough, everyone was looking to him. “Fine,” he said, sounding like he had just been pestered into making a decision, even though that hadn’t happened. Fukube’s lips parted, and even Suzuki looked back up in surprise. Hiraoka grinned. “Not now, though. We’ll never finish before class.”

“After school then,” Hiraoka interjected before anyone else, leaning across the table. “We can split up into groups and talk to the people in Suzuki-san’s classes. We can even look through her classrooms, too. I’m sure we’ll find something if we work together!”

“Okay, then we’ll leave it at that,” Suzuki answered. Fukube looked to her instead, though his expression didn’t change much. She glanced at him, but that was about it. “Though if we don’t find anything, don’t be surprised.”

“Hooray,” Tanae mumbled, “useless teamwork.”

Hiraoka elbowed him in the side, almost knocking the former bully out of his chair. “Nakama, Kohai. _Nakama_,” she said, and Mukui couldn’t have felt less deserving of the word.

* * *

Suzuki waited back at the same table she had been talking with Fukube yesterday. Her class had let out early, so she had come to where Hiraoka had suggested. At this point, looking for clues was pointless, but the other girl wouldn’t have been satisfied otherwise. Suzuki didn’t want to think how much pestering she would be subjected to if she called things off now.

Within fifteen minutes, the entire group from lunch had gathered back at the table behind the trees. It was no surprise that Oreki had shown up last, dragging his feet more than usual. Hiraoka beamed regardless, never deterred. Suzuki had a grudging sort of admiration for the other girl’s tenacity. Now, if only Hiraoka had a better constitution, maybe she could be some competition on the track…

“So, let’s get started shall we?” Hiraoka said. “Like I said earlier, we should work in groups. I’d say teams of two so we can cover the most ground. Normally, I would suggest working individually, but teamwork lets people consider things from different perspectives, so we’re better off that way. Don’t want to have any missed opportunities!” Suzuki blinked. The other girl actually had a solid point. “That being said, I figured we could use the good old drawing straws—”

“I’m going with Oreki,” Suzuki interrupted. Hiraoka stopped in the middle of digging through her bag, a pout on her face. Fukube looked more hurt than surprised, frowning at Suzuki. She cleared her throat. “We want different perspectives, right? So in that case, the combinations that allow for the greatest range are our best bets. Oreki and I have substantially different views on things, so it should work out.”

Hiraoka shrugged, slinging her bag back over her shoulders. It seemed like she was okay with it.

“In that case, I’ll go with Fukube-san,” Mukui spoke up. His eyes darted around a bit, probably afraid of any objections. Suzuki had one, but she certainly wasn’t going to voice it. All things considered, the most opposing thought process to Mukui was Tanae. Mukui had to have realized that. It didn’t matter what sort of weird alliance Hiraoka had dragged him into—the bullied never really felt comfortable around those that had bullied them.

Fortunately, Hiraoka seemed to be flexible in her logic. Judging by the way they had talked, she didn’t know much about Fukube earlier. “Hm, yeah, that’ll do,” she allowed. “I have no objections to working with Jun-chan. So now we need to split up locations. Where are Suzuki-san’s classes?”

“Aoki, Okamoto, and Matsuda,” Fukube reported, though he sounded a bit hesitant. Suzuki frowned. Normally, he would have spouted off the information, giddier than Hasegawa during a disaster movie marathon. And while he had been smiling, the cheerfulness in Fukube’s voice sounded more than a bit hollow.

“Oreki’s nothing but a lazy punk, so I’ll take him to Okamoto,” Suzuki said. Oreki frowned a little, but he didn’t complain. Okamoto was the closest hall to them at the moment.

Hiraoka nodded. “So that leaves Aoki and Matsuda to us then,” she said, her brow furrowing in though. “Ah, I can’t decide! Hero-kun, play Rock, Paper, Scissors with me!” Mukui responded to the nickname, the game proceeding. Suzuki didn’t care out the outcome went as long as everyone else kept moving. “So Aoki it is. Come on, Jun-chan, I’ll race you! Loser has to buy the other dinner!”

“If you wanted a chance for free food, you should have just asked!” Tanae protested. Hiraoka had already run off, though, so he had no choice but to set chase, letting out a frustrated growl as he did so. Mukui waited for them to be a distance off before heading off to Matsuda, Fukube giving an almost sad glance over his shoulder as he left. Suzuki scowled.

_Don’t give me that look when I don’t understand what you’re thinking._

They didn’t have any other instances of eye contact after that. After a few minutes, only Suzuki and Oreki were left in the clearing. Suzuki didn’t move, and Oreki didn’t make a move to, either. Just as Fukube had said, the boy was lazy to the core. But despite that, he had agreed to go on investigation with a rowdy group of practical strangers. No wonder Fukube was worried about the guy.

Not that Suzuki had time to worry about his problems right now.

“Didn’t you say you hated people like me?” Oreki asked, breaking the silence. Suzuki rolled her eyes. If he was even questioning it, the brunette knew the answer. She wasn’t going to waste her breath on one. Oreki somehow managed to read that. “So then why partner up with me? If you really meant your reasoning about mixed viewpoints, you wouldn’t have let Satoshi and that other guy be paired up.”

“Well, at least you saw through that pile of bullshit. Good thing I know you’re feigning ignorance, otherwise I’d start to doubt your skills as an amateur detective,” Suzuki said. For everything she disliked about the lazy boy, she had to give him credit for his brains.

Oreki had the nerve to tilt his head in mock confusion. “I don’t really follow.”

Suzuki repressed a growl. An unpleasant sound still ripped up the inside of her throat. “Oh, cut the _crap_ Oreki,” she spat out the words. “You and I know there’s no point in this goddamned ‘investigation’ because you didn’t leave any reasonable clues.” Oreki managed to keep his face as blank as ever. Suzuki was running out of patience. “And before you even _try_, I’m saying I know you wrote that _stupid_ note.”

Oreki’s eyes twitched the smallest fraction. _Finally, a reaction!_ “I’m afraid I don’t see any evidence for that, Suzuki-san.”

Oh, Suzuki would have punched him if she didn’t know it was completely useless. The idiot probably would have just lied in the same place until it got dark. “Earlier,” she managed to say between gritted teeth, “you asked me if I could think of anyone that would tell me to look out for someone that was hiding things from me.” What she would have given to be able to read Oreki. Fukube could have done it for her, but this conversation wouldn’t have worked with him here. “I never told you anything like that, and I sure as hell didn’t give you the note. Unless Fukube spilled the beans, you shouldn’t have known that was in the note.

“Oh, and by the way, the only person I could think of that would tell me something like that is you.” Suzuki didn’t care what Oreki would try, her logic was sound. She added more force to her voice. “So just _what_ is your big fucking deal about me dating Fukube?”

He could have lied. Part of Suzuki really wanted him to, just so she could beat the crap out of him. It wasn’t something that was exactly proud of, but she hadn’t gotten into a fight with anyone since she had knocked Tanae unconscious behind the Student Success Building. And, frankly, fighting was completely different than running, gave its own kind of rush that was different from anything else.

The only problem was that it was completely boring unless the other person started fighting back, and Oreki would never give her that satisfaction.

“I’m kind of surprised that you figured it out and Satoshi didn’t,” Oreki said. If it was possible for Suzuki to frown anymore without straining herself, those words would have caused it. “It’s not that I doubt your intelligence, Suzuki-san. I just thought Satoshi would have been able to see what was going on, too.”

As much as Suzuki wanted to get on with it, Oreki’s words did make her pause for thought. Fukube and Oreki had known each other for years, and yet Fukube hadn’t realized his friend’s slip? Suzuki didn’t believe it for a second. It was way more likely that he had noticed and chosen to ignore it, or he had been too preoccupied with realizing the note was about _him_ and what to do with it.

Suzuki hoped for Fukube’s sake it was the latter. It wouldn’t stop her from yelling, but it might cut the lecture shorter at least.

Maybe.

“You’re still not answering my question, Oreki,” Suzuki said. She wasn’t snapping yet, but it wouldn’t take much more for her to get to that point. “I don’t really care about anything else other than that, so will you just get on with it?”

Oreki sighed, but Suzuki was used to that sort of behavior by now. He was just being melodramatic about having to speak more than two sentences at a time. “Like I said, I think it’s unfair of me to talk about things that I don’t completely understand. But still, Satoshi told you about how he doesn’t like being obsessed with things, right?” Suzuki nodded. “Before, there was this girl we went to school with that had a crush on him for years. He told her the same thing, but she stuck beside him, believing that if she was adamant enough, he’d get over it and accept her feelings.”

Oreki paused to take a deep breath. Geeze, even when he was intaking oxygen, which was necessary for life, he made it sound like an absolute burden. “I don’t think that you’re in love with Satoshi,” he continued, and Suzuki almost wanted to choke. The only thing stopping her was that an interruption would probably ruin any desire Oreki had to keep talking. “In fact, I don’t even know if you like him. But you are stubborn, Suzuki-san, so I think you should talk to him one more time and see what happens.”

Suzuki let herself take a few minutes to process what had been said. It wasn’t complicated, but it wasn’t exactly straightforward, either. Still, she made herself wait before asking anything else, because it was something she wanted to figure out on her own.

“So if you wanted to tell me that, why didn’t you just say it instead of being all cryptic?” she asked. Really, it was the only part that made no sense. “Then we wouldn’t have gotten everyone else involved and this could have been done a day or so ago. Man, for someone that claims to like conserving energy, you sure do waste a lot of it on pointless things.”

Oreki blinked, but didn’t divert eye contact. “Because if I just told you without any prelude, Satoshi would have gotten mad,” he said. “This way, he had just as much of a chance to stop it or bring it up himself. And if I had just told you, you would have gotten mad and not given it enough thought.” Suzuki couldn’t even protest. Given the way their last conversation had gone, it was a valid conclusion. “This way seemed to work best.”

Mentally, Suzuki conceded. Oreki had put enough forethought into the situation so she would respect that. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, either, but it wasn’t really necessary.

And it wasn’t what she had gone through all this trouble for, anyways.

“Alright, so then I’ll just get going,” Suzuki decided. She would send a message to Fukube of where to meet, and then she would wait. There was a chance that he wouldn’t come, but it didn’t matter. At this point, she was going to be the one to reach out. And if Fukube didn’t move things along with his own will, then she would use hers.

“You are officially dismissed, Oreki. If you run into the others, tell them to go home,” she continued, then set out for the track.

If she was going to talk to Fukube like a rational person, she needed to work out her energy first.

* * *

“Man, I can’t believe that Oreki-kun and Suzuki-chan figured it out so quickly,” Hiraoka whined, her backpack slung over one shoulder. Tanae followed in step beside her, heading towards the food establishment of her choice. He had pushed a large chunk of his allowance into his savings for now, but there was still enough for him to do things like pay up for his losses in silly bets. After her head start, Hiraoka had made it to Aoki first, so his wallet would be taking the hit for dinner.

Besides, he had been already planning to pay for her anyway. Now there was just an extra reason attached to it.

“_Plus,_” Hiraoka continued, putting way too much stress on one word than was necessary in a situation like this, “Oreki-kun didn’t even tell us anything. He just said that Suzuki wanted us to go home ‘cause there was no need to investigate… Ah, a real-life mystery and it just completely moved on without us! Sure, I know I’m no protagonist, but I figured I was more than just some lame side character that’s clueless about the plot, you know?”

“If we get to know, we’ll be told,” Tanae said. In a way, he was playing devil’s advocate, but it didn’t matter. He and Hiraoka had always been honest with each other, so it wasn’t like a small comment in that range would start up a fight. “Besides, Suzuki probably just thought that we were an annoyance that tagged along anyways. She probably was only including us because you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

_At least, that has to be why she even let me be around._

“I guess…” Hiraoka pouted a bit, coming to a stop on the side of the road. The signal was red, and Hiraoka seemed like she was staring out into space. “I just kinda thought it would be cool if we got to go on our own little adventure, though. Even if it’s only short story quality, being able to solve a mystery seemed like it would be amazing.”

Her voice was quiet. Regardless, Tanae couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Come on, with all the junk we’ve dealt with since middle school, I’d say you’re just not looking in the right places for your fun,” he said. It was definitely his self-centered point of view, but he knew Hiraoka wouldn’t mind.

The girl looked to him, her eyes a bit wide in surprise, but a smile still on her lips. “You think so?”

Really, Tanae hadn’t been doing anything other than letting the words comes out without much thought. Still, he nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s time to stop looking so hard for an out of there adventure. If we’re meant to be involved with one, we’ll know. If not, we’ll just have to focus on the sort of things in front of us.”

Hiraoka laughed, a soft sound almost lost in the rhythm of the traffic signal. “Oh, slice of life, huh? Not my ideal, but those do still manage to touch people so I can deal with it.”

He wasn’t sure which one of them initiated the contact, but Tanae and Hiraoka crossed the street holding hands.

“Or maybe you were trying to say this was a romance…Jun-chan?”

* * *

_Tell Mukui-san to go come. Come to the track when you’re ready._

It was stupid for Fukube to think that Suzuki would wait around the track for a few hours, but he went there anyway. Although, he was still disobeying the message, considering he didn’t feel anywhere close to ready. In fact, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be ready for, given that Suzuki’s message hadn’t given up any helpful details.

Except, Fukube still felt convinced that he knew where this conversation would end up. And, in that case, he definitely wasn’t ready. Of course, it felt like he would never be ready, and he couldn’t leave Suzuki waiting forever. It was that kind of mistake that Fukube wasn’t willing to make again. So, it was just better to go while he was aware he wouldn’t be able to meet her expectations than wait until a later time when he could pretend like he could.

Besides, it was already getting dark, and the track’s overhead lights were only turned on when it was time for official practices. Suzuki had probably gone home. Fukube walked down the hill to the track anyway. At least that way he could still follow instructions. Suzuki wouldn’t be lenient, but Fukube could still feel like he had tried.

Fukube crested the hill before the track. As expected, the lights weren’t on, leaving just the last remnants of the sinking sun for illumination, but that didn’t stop Suzuki’s shadow from streaking across the track in circles. Even from afar, she seemed so fast, so ready to push herself forward. It took Fukube so much strength to even approach her, let alone think he could keep up with her.

_Dammit, I’m the worst._

It wasn’t news to him, but the reminder stung all the same. Suzuki had looped the track twice before Fukube made it to the closest gate, and then he stood there waiting. She must’ve caught sight of him because her pace slowed—not from hesitation, but a need to cool down. Suzuki came to a stop, performed some stretches, and at last looked at Fukube. “You’re late,” she said.

The usual bubbly persona that Fukube relied on wouldn’t surface, no matter how hard he tried. The note that Suzuki had gotten was about him, without a doubt. There was one thing this conversation could be about, and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. “You…wanted to talk, Suzuki-san?”

Suzuki caught him in a tight glare that wouldn’t have looked out of place on someone trying to shake a kid down for their lunch money. Every fiber of her being seemed to be screaming _pathetic_ at him, and Fukube was inclined to agree. She heaved out a sigh and stormed towards him, slamming the track gate open. Fukube shut his eyes, preparing for retaliation, but Suzuki passed him without as much as a brush of contact.

Fukube turned, shoving his hands into his pockets. The night chill creeped into his bones anyway, aided by the shiver of fear. Was she just giving up on him, on playing around? Was just a few weeks all he was worth anymore, not even a year or so?

The bleachers thumped as Suzuki dropped herself onto them. She stretched out her legs, pale skin still flashing in the dimming light, and bent herself forward to touch her toes. “I don’t care if you sit or not,” she said, sharp voice not even dampened by her face shoved into calves. “Oreki told me some shit, but I don’t care what he has to say. This is about me and you, so you better start talking.”

_Houtarou_. Fukube’s mind raced as he tried to think of what could’ve been said. There wouldn’t be any hints on that matter, and drawing a reasonable conclusion was beyond him. The possibilities were endless, and trekking into that sort of territory scared him. Being with Suzuki scared him, too, because she didn’t accept any frivolity.

“Is it alright if I sit next to you?” The words felt like he had pried them out with rusted pliers, and a similar taste assaulted his tongue. Suzuki grunted, bending her right leg a few times at the knee. Fukube took up position at her left, just to stay out of the way. The scent of Suzuki’s sweat drifted off her, but she didn’t even bother to wipe the perspiration from her forehead.

He almost asked where to start, but he knew there was just one place that would even work.

Not having the courage to look at her while he said it, Fukube stared up at the muted purple sky as it sunk into the last components of black.

“Back in middle school, I was friends with this girl named Mayaka.” Just saying the name made his chest sting in memory. “We were friends in high school, too. Well, I guess you could still even say we’re friends now.” The metal bleachers creaked as Suzuki shifted. “She liked me a lot, and I think I liked her, too. But whenever she confessed to me, I would always turn her down.”

“Because you don’t like being obsessed with things,” Suzuki said.

“Because I don’t like being obsessed with things.” The more and more he said it, the more pathetic of an argument it sounded like. In other parts of the campus, students were returning to their dorms or walking in groups to the station, faint traces of laughter drifting down to even the track. “She didn’t give up, though, and she waited for me, all the way through middle school, all the way through high school. I’d shoot her down, and every single time she’d come back.”

_When you’re ready, Fuku-chan. I’ll be right here when you’re ready._

Fukube dropped his gaze to his hands, folded in his lap. Suzuki hunched herself over, forearms resting on her knees. “Well, obviously this story doesn’t have a happy ending or we wouldn’t even be talking to each other,” she said, almost sounding bored. It must’ve sounded stupid to an outsider, and maybe Fukube had been stupid after all. “Keep going. What happened before you came here, then?”

The grimace contorted his face before he could stop it. “When we graduated, we already knew we had gotten into different schools.” Houtarou had chosen the school for its lack of entrance examination, and Fukube had followed with the same self-preserving thoughts in mind. Mayaka and Eru had a bit more ambition than that. “But like always, Mayaka tried asking me again one more time. I’d turned her down at Valentine’s again, but she said she needed to make sure before we went.

“And, like the brilliant person I am, I told her no. That I still wasn’t ready.” His words had picked up speed and volume. Suzuki didn’t back away. “I thought she’d be there. I took that for granted. Even at a time like this, I thought she’d be waiting. But—”

But.

Like she should’ve done a long time ago.

_I’m not doing this anymore,_ Mayaka had said, and her words still echoed in his memory. _I do love you Fuku-chan. I always have. But it’s not fair to myself to keep clinging to you when you’re not ready. _She’d sucked in a shaking breath, the kind that always came when she was holding back tears. _I’m going to move on with my life. And if you ever hit a point where you think you’re ready, I won’t get mad at you for coming back to me. Just know that I might not be there._

Her heart had broken far more than his had, but Fukube still had the gall to feel sorry for himself about it.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Suzuki stood up, her baggy jacket not looking like it was even enough to keep her warm. Despite having sat through the whole story, warmth still rolled off her body. “Oreki thinks you’re gonna end up stringing me along like you did this Mayaka chick or something. Sheesh, like that’s any of his fucking business.”

Somehow, her harsh demeanor made it that much easier to throw on one of his happier airs. “Well, I suppose he’s just worried.” As annoying as it was, Houtarou was just worried. “But how about you, Suzuki-san? Are you disappointed to know what you’ve been dealing with this whole time? Are you disappointed in what I did?”

Suzuki snorted. She faced him, the darkness casting intimidating shadows over her expression. “What am I supposed to be disappointed in?” she asked. The taut muscles in her legs didn’t look relaxed at all. How hard could Suzuki kick again? “That you were upfront about your commitment level and didn’t date a girl just because you felt obligated to? ‘Cause this sounds to me like she’s the one who took forever to move on. Did you ever say anything dumb like ‘I’ll definitely be ready one day, so just wait for me’?”

The words winded him like a punch to the gut. Fukube gaped up at Suzuki, trying to find a response that would be worth something.

“People aren’t responsible for anyone but themselves,” Suzuki continued. The whole time, she just looked down on him. “You can’t control other people’s feelings, Fukube. You’ve been beating yourself up over her feelings when you haven’t even been confronting your own.”

“What, I’m just supposed to ignore her, then?” Fukube hauled himself to his feet. Suzuki was taller than him, but he didn’t let her back down. “I hurt Mayaka just because of my own damn insecurities. Are you saying I shouldn’t take responsibility for that?”

“Because asking me out is taking responsibility.” Fukube’s fists clenched at his sides., but he didn’t dare move further. She was right, she was right. “You can feel guilty all you like. But our feelings are a sign we should do something with ourselves. You can’t expect to help anyone if you’re not in a stable position to.”

Something stirred up inside him that he didn’t know how to describe. No, he did know how to describe it, but he just didn’t want to acknowledge it. But his fists trembled, his throat constricted, and hot tears started to spill from his eyes and streak down his cheeks. Suzuki made a sound in the back of her throat and avoided eye contact. Fukube let out a watery chuckle. “You’re afraid of such silly things, Suzuki-san.”

“Don’t go trying to sound all profound when you’re crying like a baby!” Suzuki bristled, but Fukube just laughed more, even if the tears didn’t stop. “Sheesh, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Suzuki-san,” Fukube said, keeping his head held high. “I think I know what I’d like to do. Would you mind helping me? As a friend?”

Suzuki sighed. “I’m not really good at this sort of shit, but why not.” She toyed with her ponytail, thick locks falling apart between her fingers. “If you think I can help you out any, there’s not much point in saying no, now is there? Just know that if you puss out on me, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Of course. Thanks.” Wiping his face on his sleeve, Fukube managed to smile.

He didn’t need to force it, either.


	7. Friday, May 3

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Friday, May 3

* * *

After the long and awkward bus ride that had gotten them to the inn, Suzuki was relieved to step out and stretch her legs. Though she’d gone for a quick jog in the morning before departing, sitting still for so long had never agreed with her. She didn’t pay much mind to the design of the building, too busy scouting out for a potential path she might be able to keep up her daily exercises on, though none were apparent at a quick glance.

“You know that most people would really not think about exercise at all while going on vacation,” Fukube said, his voice at last popping up behind her. Suzuki only gave a perfunctory glance over her shoulder to see him exit the bus, a sleepier than usual looking Oreki behind her. Though Oreki had spent most of the bus ride dosing off, the atmosphere still hadn’t been the best. Fukube adjusted his bag over his shoulder and plastered that damn careless grin over his face again. “I’m starting to think you don’t know the meaning of relaxation.”

“I think it’s just because you don’t have an athletic bone in your body,” Suzuki said. Fukube shrugged it off, and the girl bent over to touch her toes. Despite the warming weather, she hadn’t abandoned her baggy track jacket, and the sleeves slipped over her fingers and to the pavement. Satisfied at the burn in her calves, she popped right back up. “If you want me to relax, you’ll let me do my thing.”

Fukube chuckled, and she could pick out the slightest undercurrent of nervousness. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop trying to fake being happy all the time, but she at least knew there was some reason for it. “Well, whatever makes you happy, Suzuki-san.”

“You better not slack off the whole time and fall behind in your classes again.” Fukube spluttered out some half complete protest, and Suzuki scooped up her sports bag. Oreki had managed to catch enough of his bearings to work his way past them and towards the entrance. _Someone’s eager,_ Suzuki thought, then decided there wasn’t much sense in just staring at the damn building. “Come on, Fukube. No time to start pussing out now.”

“R-right.”

The faint relief of air conditioning swept over Suzuki as she entered, as well as a few shouted greetings from the inn staff. Oreki had stopped in the center of the lobby, his head turning as he scanned over the room. Fukube’s footsteps faltered at the entrance, but Suzuki didn’t stop her own gait, ponytail swishing behind her. Just because she agreed to help didn’t mean she had to hold his hand the whole time.

“Oreki-san!”

The unfamiliar voice was enough to catch her and Oreki’s attention, the latter raising his hand in a minimal. A girl with dark hair cascading behind her rushed over to them, her flowing skirt billowing out from the motion. A smile so naturally the opposite of Fukube’s spread over the girl’s face, and she clasped Oreki’s hands without any reservation. “It’s so good to see you again! I missed you.”

“It’s nice to see you again, too, Chitanda-san.”

While she’d guessed already, it was nice to have the confirmation of the name. The girl was Chitanda Eru, one of Fukube and Oreki’s class and club mates from high school. True to his (creepy) database nature, Fukube had managed to describe her to a T, and she matched Suzuki’s expectations in every way. Chitanda even dipped into a small bow the moment she noticed Suzuki.

“You must be Oreki-san and Fukube-san’s friend. I’m Chitanda Eru. It’s nice to meet you,” Chitanda said, blending together cheer and politeness into a perfect introduction. While she normally didn’t think much about her own brash nature, Suzuki felt a bit out of her element—and getting called Oreki’s _friend_ of all things wasn’t helping.

Unable to do much else, Suzuki returned the bow with one of her own. “Suzuki Akiko. It’s nice to meet you.” When she straightened up, Fukube had managed to drag his ass over to the gathering, and he wasn’t even trying to hide his amused expression. Suzuki scowled at him long enough for him to see it before reverting to a more neutral expression.

Not even batting an eye at the quick exchange, Chitanda clapped her hands together, violet eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard about you from Oreki-san, so I’m excited to get to know you.” Suzuki wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to know what Oreki had said about her, and his constant half-asleep expression made it difficult to get a read on him. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with me and Ibara-san for the weekend.”

_Ah, there it is._ Not wanting to see Fukube’s expression, Suzuki nodded. “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. I stayed in a dormitory during high school, so I’m used to sharing my space. It won’t be an issue.” At least, she sure hoped that it wouldn’t be. It all depended on how things played out.

“Do we need to check in or did you guys take care of things already?” Fukube asked, gently pushing the subject in another direction. _Coward._ “Houtarou here slept most of the way up here. I bet that he wouldn’t mind falling right back asleep.”

No matter how obvious of a plot it was, Chitanda fell for it hook, line, and sinker. “Eh, is that true, Oreki-san? I know it’s Golden Week and all, but you shouldn’t sleep the whole trip away.”

For once, Suzuki saw something akin to mild discomfort work its way over Oreki’s face. It wasn’t near as satisfying as she’d hoped it’d be. “I have morning classes, so I haven’t had the chance to doze for a while,” he said, and Chitanda giggled. “I’ll try to stay at least a little bit awake while we’re here, though.”

“Great! I mean, I prepared a special one this time, so it wouldn’t be as fun if—”

“Eru-chan, don’t just run off without me. Geez!” A fresh voice filled with the tone of a friendly scolding met Suzuki’s ears, and a new person caught up to the group. That made their number as five, since Suzuki was the only outsider intruding on the gathering. Her brown hair was in a short and stylish cut, and her eyes were a beautiful shade of pink that reminded Suzuki of gemstones. “Oh, everyone’s here. So you must be Suzuki-san.”

Suzuki nodded. “Nice to meet you,” she said for the second time.

“Nice to see you again, Fuku-chan, Oreki.”

Oreki nodded his greetings. And despite Suzuki’s best efforts, she ended up looking in Fukube’s direction just in time to see the way his carefully constructed smile couldn’t hold up the moment he laid eyes on her.

“Hi, Mayaka.”

* * *

Fukube had known from the start that the trip was a stupid idea, if only because less than two months wasn’t enough time to make any of guilt from graduation to fade away. Bringing Suzuki along only made it seem stupider, and it had been his idea. As if having Suzuki around was supposed to somehow kick his courage into gear.

_Though I’m sure Suzuki-san will kick me around instead if I dawdle around too long._

Sighing Fukube finished changing into his inn provided yukata and looked over himself in the bathroom mirror. The soft green color of the garment was a nice compliment to the rest of the inn’s verdant color scheme, but it didn’t do a thing to help brighten up Fukube’s expression. He resisted the urge to press his fingers to his reflection. Who knew keeping up his usual cheerfulness would be so much harder?

Trying to shake the thoughts off, Fukube tightened the knot on his sash one more time before exiting the bathroom. The usual tatami floor of traditional décor gave the room a relaxing air, and it would be plenty of space for just him and Houtarou—even all three girls next door wouldn’t have much trouble fitting into the space. Chitanda had been magnanimous once again when she offered to pay for their lodgings.

As for Fukube’s roommate, Houtarou had already spread out his futon and was dozing off, despite the sunshine slipping in through the open windows. He looked so at peace that Fukube didn’t have the heart to tease him over it, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to manage to get the words out if he wanted to.

_Yeah, this was a stupid idea._

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Fukube decided that a distraction was in order. Making sure to stay quiet as he exited so as not to wake Houtarou, Fukube slipped into the hall. While the logical thing to do would be to ask the girls next door for company, he didn’t quite know what he’d d if Mayaka was the one to open the door. Even though she acted like normal in the lobby, he wondered how much of that was an act—just like he was.

Yeah, it would be better to be someplace so that he could run into Suzuki or even Chitanda first. If Mayaka was with them, it would be better than talking with her alone. He didn’t know the layout of the inn well enough yet, so he settled on wandering down the hallway to get a feel for it. It was his obligation as the resident database, after all.

As expected, most of the floor they were on was rooms from end to end, laid out for the guests to have a relaxing atmosphere. In addition to the reception desk on the ground floor, the bath and other recreational activities along with them. It was a simple setup that didn’t take much in the way of memorization, but he felt better catching his bearings. At least in the building, he’d know where he was.

Just as he was scoping over the guest floor one more time to cement his mental map and trying to think where the best place would be to run into the others, Fukube found Suzuki feeding some coins into one of the vending machines. She, like himself, had traded out her clothes for the guest yukata, the thin fabric contrasting with the baggy jacket she tended to wear everywhere. She’d even undone her hair from its ponytail, though the thick locks were still in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. If her expression had been a little softer, she might have looked like a different person.

The thunk of the vending machine dispensing her drink jostled Fukube back to awareness, and Suzuki crouched to receive the carton. “Out and about already, Suzuki-san?” he asked, moving his legs forward. Suzuki spared him a glance in greeting but was too busy downing the contents of her coffee milk to offer a response. “Everything go okay with settling in?”

“Yeah, no problems. Those two are easy enough to get along with.” Suzuki was much less inclined to lie about her feelings, but Fukube still felt uneasy. Why had he thought this would be okay again? “You’re short one Oreki-san. Did he fall asleep again?”

“Heh, got it in one.” Suzuki pulled a face, seeming appalled by Houtarou’s habits. She didn’t know the half of it. Fishing out some of his own coins, Fukube went to peruse the vending machine himself. “I’m not gonna lie, Suzuki-san, I felt kinda relieved when I found him conked out already.”

“Because you’re starting to have second thoughts about this whole mess,” Suzuki said, not even bothering to word it as a question. She didn’t need to, so Fukube didn’t argue. Letting out a frustrated sounding sigh, Suzuki leaned against the nearby wall. “You remember the deal we made, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“And you remember what’s gonna happen if you waste my time, right?”

“I _am_ a database after all, Suzuki-san.”

“Just as long as you keep that in mind.” Fukube pressed a button at random, more interested in something to mess with than having an actual drink. Suzuki drained the rest of her coffee milk in one fell swoop and dropped the carton into the nearby recycling bin. “Here, move over. I’m gonna get something else to drink.”

Fukube considered making a comment about how her drinking habits were almost as bad as her eating ones but decided not to push his luck. Houtarou wasn’t happy with him, and Mayaka was a mess waiting to happen; he didn’t need the only person on the trip who was willing to put up with him to be Chitanda, as sweet as she was. “Well, did you have any plans for how to spend your break, then? I got a good look at the place, so we should be able to—”

“Holy cow, is that Suzuki-san? Oh, oh, it is! And Fukube-san’s with her!” Paying no mind to the concept that inns were supposed to be relaxing, rapid footsteps thundered down the hall towards them. Hiraoka Kouna arrived in record time, her yukata and loose hair somehow making her look more like a college student than Fukube had ever seen her. “Whoa, what a coincidence. I totally didn’t expect to see you guys here at all!”

Suzuki looked about to choke on her second drink (fruit milk for round two), so Fukube picked up the conversational reigns. “We just came to have a little get away for the holiday,” he said as Suzuki tried to regain her composure. With Hiraoka’s cheerful demeanor, it was easy to keep his own spirits up. “What brings you out here, Hiraoka-san? Looking for a little get away yourself?”

Hiraoka pumped her fist, a wide grin stretching over her face. “It’s a training camp!” she said, sounding every bit like a shonen manga (which Fukube guessed was the whole point). “Jun-chan and I trying to help Hero-kun out so more, so we decided to have our super secret get away, that way when we got back to school everyone would be like, ‘Whoa, I didn’t expect that at all!’”

“Oh, I’m sure no one expects anything that comes out of your mind,” Suzuki said, recovered enough to mutter into her fruit milk carton. Fukube just shook his head at her.

“Hm, though if you two are here, I think I know what’s up. It’s definitely fate that we met again. Or would that be hitsuzen? At any rate, don’t you worry. If you want us to stay out of it, I can let Jun-chan and Hero-kun know not to interrupt you guys.”

Fukube blinked, and based on the (just visible underneath the layers of boredom) confusion that flickered over Suzuki’s face, she shared the sentiment. “Interrupt what exactly, Hiraoka-san?”

Hiraoka tilted her head in the perfect maneuver, and a sly smirk formed on her lips. “You don’t have to be coy with me, Fukube-kun. But don’t worry I can play along. I’ll keep the guys from interrupting your date!”

Maybe it was just the way the words sounded to his ears, but Hiraoka’s voice seemed much louder than it had any right to. Suzuki had crushed the empty fruit milk carton in her hand, her expression unreadable. Further down the hall, a door slammed shut, the noise echoing through the hall. And even though Fukube hadn’t seen it happen, he knew just whose door it had been.

Because right down the hall was the room here Chitanda, Suzuki, and Mayaka were staying.

* * *

When you looked at the trip so far, it had been going well. Of course, that was if you were looking at it compared to expectations—and considering Suzuki had expected the whole thing to be a shit storm from the get go, things were going _great_. A little bit of awkwardness was nothing compared to the imminent explosion on the horizon.

_Of course, if I believed it the way Fukube put it, we should’ve crashed before we even got here._

Suzuki laid back on one of the many outdoor chairs, staring up into the sky. Night had fallen much faster than she’d expected, and the stars shone like distant crystals through the darkness. Jin Hua had always been a fan of astronomy, so Suzuki had seen her fair share of views from observatories, but it’d been a while.

Absentminded, Suzuki’s eyes traced the familiar constellations, though some of their names were fuzzy. Just as an inn should have been, the atmosphere was quiet, leaving her thoughts free to wander without any interruptions. Given the bombastic way Hiraoka had drawn their groups together for lunch, Suzuki needed the escape.

As far as first impressions went, Chitanda and Ibara both seemed likeable enough. Chitanda was the well mannered sort whose manners gave no surprise to her ability to pay the entire five-person’s vacation expenses without batting an eye. Ibara, while not as high-class and refined, seemed rational enough. If it weren’t for the fact that Suzuki knew the whole stupid story about Ibara’s failed attempts to date Fukube, Suzuki might not have noticed the muted way the two spoke to each other, as if every conversation was a potential way for things to break between them.

_Except I know, so of course I notice._ Suzuki let out a long breath through her nose and rolled to her side, the lounge chair beneath her giving way to her shifting body weight.

And sitting on the seat beside her was Oreki.

Suzuki managed to hold herself back from springing into an upright position, but she didn’t bother to temper the glare she shot him. Oreki hadn’t been contributing to the dampened mood in any way whatsoever, no he hadn’t. From the moment Fukube had announced his intentions to bring Suzuki along on the little Classics Club reunion, Oreki had somehow been more silent than ever—and that was with his mood boost from being around Chitanda.

_Oh, I do not have the patience for any of this._

“Can I help you, Oreki-san?” Suzuki wondered why she even bothered to include the honorific anymore. Maybe because she didn’t want that half-concealed worried look of Fukube’s directed at her. “I thought you’d be catching up with your friends. Chitanda-san sure looked like she had a lot to say to you.”

Oreki remained sitting on the side of the longue chair, though he did raise a hand to tweak a bit at his bangs. Fukube would’ve known what it meant, but Suzuki didn’t care enough to even think about asking later. “She and Ibara-san went to take a bath,” he said, not quite looking Suzuki in the eye. “I couldn’t exactly join them.”

Suzuki refused to compromise her comfortable position, even though she hated the way Oreki was technically above her. Since he wasn’t a threat, she let it slide. “And your solution to that problem was to come and find me instead?” Suzuki considered her next words, second-guessed herself for the briefest of moments, then decided she didn’t give a shit about the potential consequences. “Why not just ask Fukube to chat then?”

Her words weren’t straightforward in their meaning, but Oreki was smart enough to figure that out. Even so, he sat there for a few moments, still not looking her in the eyes. He and Fukube were a pair of cowards, really, a perfect match. A gentle breeze rolled by, sending a nearby windchime jangling.

“Satoshi…isn’t really in a state of mind where he wants to talk to me.”

“And you don’t want to talk to him, either.” Oreki grimaced the slightest amount, but the look was more than obvious in comparison to his usual stoic expression. Suzuki rolled onto her stomach and continues, “You’re both being stupid, but that’s not really any of my damn business, you know? I’m not gonna serve as a middleman when you’re both adults that can talk between yourselves.”

A sound caught in Oreki’s throat, and that was all Suzuki needed to know. Sure, being vague with her wasn’t any way to ger on her good side, but that didn’t mean having such transparent intentions helped Oreki’s case at all. “Based on the way you said that Suzuki-san, that means you know something.”

Suzuki glanced at Oreki in her peripheral vision. It was slight, but he had leaned forward the tiniest amount, and she could almost see the way a faint sort of hope glimmered in his eyes. “You’ve got a surprising set of balls for being such a lazybones, Oreki-san.” Not that she was willing to feed that hope in the slightest. “But like I said, you two are adults. I’m not here to solve your problems for you.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice wasn’t accusatory in the slightest. Suzuki couldn’t tell if she admired that calmness or hated him for it. At last, Oreki let his eyes fall to Suzuki’s, for the first time _looking_ at her since the exchange had started. “If you’re not some sort of mediator, what did you come along for, Suzuki-san?”

“Because…” The word was out of her mouth before Suzuki could even consider lying. She felt surprised by how fragile she could still sound, even after all these years. It was ridiculous, especially since this whole situation had nothing to do with her own weaknesses. “I’m here because Fukube has something he needs to do.”

Oreki’s lips parted for a second, giving him the faintest look of surprise under the night sky. And knowing she didn’t want any part of the conversation that would follow that, Suzuki gave it up for broke, pushed herself up from her seat, and stalked away from Oreki. Maybe to the bath so there was no way he could follow.

* * *

Mukui knew he should be grateful to Hiraoka for offering to help him, inviting him on vacation, and even offering to front the bill (Mukui had paid for his own portion of the trip expenses anyway), but he couldn’t help but feel like the whole thing had been some sort of mess. Despite having spent at least an hour soaking in the inn’s vast hot springs, the tension in his shoulders hadn’t faded in the slightest.

_Hiraoka-san said this was supposed to be a training camp, but what in the world does that even mean?_

Meandering the way back up to the group’s shared room, Mukui fidgeted with the hems of his inn yukata sleeves. Part of him had a perfect idea of what Hiraoka meant, that by somehow taking a trip and plowing through motivational speeches, Mukui would somehow come out of the whole mess a step closer to who he wanted to be—with an increased power level, as Hiraoka had put it.

He felt that possibility much less likely than she did. He had managed to stop having a panic attack every time he saw Tanae, but Mukui knew that wasn’t anything worth congratulating himself over. People like Suzuki were much better; even her warnings to stop viewing her as some sort of role model hadn’t deterred Mukui’s view of her much. Being selfish? He’d never had the strength of mind to consider such a thing.

Which was why he’d come along, without any trace of argument.

Because he had no backbone.

Because he was desperate for something to work.

Making it to their room, Mukui tested out the door before reaching for the key. As promised, Hiraoka had left it open for him, and the lights were still on. Tanae and Hiraoka had already spread out the bedding for the night, and the two sat in front of the TV with some anime Mukui didn’t recognize on the screen. It seemed to involve a lot of screaming.

Hiraoka looked ecstatic; Tanae just seemed to be giving a perfunctory interest. Even so, there was the slightest quirk of a smile on his face, making him look at ease. It was such a different look than the sneer he’d given Mukui when taunting him in front of the student success center that Mukui might have been surprised to discover they were the same person. But Tanae was, no matter how Mukui looked at it, and something inside Mukui’s heart quivered with fear. On instinct, he gripped the lucky coin he’d stowed away in his pocket, the familiar weight resting in his palm.

“Oh, it’s Hero-kun!” Hiraoka threw up her hand in an ecstatic wave, still somehow full of energy after a trip to the bath. Tanae glanced to the door and gave a small wave. Mukui tried to think of a greeting, but the words stuck in his throat. “We were just watching some old school stuff to get ideas. Come on and watch! You’ll totally feel inspired for when the real training starts tomorrow.”

Mukui put on a smile and nodded. It wasn’t like he had any better ideas anyway. And if nothing else, it would at least prevent any awkward conversation with Tanae if they did something else.

But even when Hiraoka tossed him a pillow and Mukui relaxed as best as he could, he still knew he didn’t belong here.


	8. Saturday, May 4

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Saturday, May 4

* * *

Oreki managed to wake up in the morning with zero prompting on Satoshi’s part, but the atmosphere between them hadn’t improved in the slightest. Even though Oreki had tried to figure out what Suzuki had meant the night before, he hadn’t had much success. Not knowing what else to do, he went to ask the girls if they were ready for breakfast.

And so breakfast found them all assembled in the inn’s dining idea, somehow keeping up chatter. It seemed that Hiraoka, Mukui, and Tanae had come to the same location, and the Classics Club plus Suzuki joined the trio at the table for breakfast. Satoshi and Suzuki had ended up on the same side as Tanae and Hiraoka, while Oreki, Chitanda, Ibara and Mukui were on the opposite.

Not wanting to acknowledge the worried look in Chitanda’s eyes, Oreki steadfastly ignored the tension and focused on eating. Suzuki didn’t seem the slightest bit perturbed and was shoveling food into her mouth as always.

“That’s still so cool that you all managed to solve mysteries when you were in school together,” Hiraoka said for what had to be the hundredth time, almost taking Satoshi out with another flail of her chopsticks wielding hand. Tanae had on a bemused expression, as if it wouldn’t matter if he apologized for her or not. “I thought Oreki-san was cool already, but it’s even cooler that you were a group. Like a mystery squad. I’d read a light novel about that!”

“Well, it was kind of hectic at times, but we managed to enjoy ourselves anyway,” Ibara said. Oreki’s feelings about their high school days were as negative as they once were, but he still would’ve preferred a little less hassle from back them. “I swear, it felt like we couldn’t go anywhere without something happening.”

To Oreki’s right, Chitanda nodded. “It was really incredible how that always happened.” Yup, continuing eating was the better reaction there, no doubt. “I almost thought it was like a charm or something, like we needed to stay busy.”

“What, you guys bring your own plot along to? I love it,” Hiraoka said, tugging on the sleeve of Tanae’s yukata. “Jun-chan, what did I do to miss out on being a protagonist. Life is so unfair.”

Tanae make a noncommittal sound somewhere in his throat. “I think you do a good enough job with enjoying life regardless of if you’re a protagonist or not… You’re not gonna still go on about that Senpai stuff now, are you?”

Hiraoka grinned. “That depends. Are you willing to admit why you think you shouldn’t have to call me Senpai anymore?” Tanae’s face flushed the slightest shade of pink, and he ducked his head back to eating his meal. Mukui looked just as flustered by the implication.

Oreki assessed the situation between the two, but decided against saying anything “Speaking of that, though, Chitanda-san,” he said, and he had to catch his breath for a moment when she looked at him with those eyes of hers. “You didn’t come up with something again, did you? I’d like to take a break from thinking about things since we’re on vacation from school.”

That was enough to catch Suzuki’s attention, and she raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘come up with something’ supposed to mean?” she asked, glancing to Satoshi for guidance. Chitanda giggled before he could give an answer.

“Yes, I did come up with something, Oreki-san,” Chitanda said, the spark in her eyes growing ever brighter. Noticing the curious glances from the non-Classics Club alumni of their party, she smiled. “After a while, we started running into such strange occurrences that we decided to take turns coming up with fake mysteries to keep something else from happening. It’s my turn, but you all are free to join us if you like.”

Suzuki gave Satoshi another look, like she would’ve liked a warning about this particular possibility. Hiraoka turned to Mukui, her mouth halfway open.

“You’re going to say that it’ll help my ‘training’ if we join in, aren’t you Hiraoka-san?” Mukui asked. Oreki didn’t care enough to ask for an elaboration what “training” was supposed to come from playing along with Chitanda’s intentional mystery hour.

“Nailed it in one, my dear Hero-kun.”

Mukui looked very much like he was holding back a sigh as he poked at what was left of the tamagoyaki on his plate. “I guess I don’t mind, but I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mukui-san, I didn’t come up with anything too difficult,” Chitanda said. Mukui didn’t seem to know how to respond to her smile. “I can’t come up with anything too complicated to actually be a challenge for Oreki-san, so I just made a scavenger hunt this time. We’re going to be looking for a missing pet! Although it’s just a stuffed animal I asked the staff if they’d be willing to hide for us…”

Hiraoka clapped her hands together, bouncing enough that Fukube could feel the vibrations on the ground between them. “I’m in for sure. So’s Jun-chan!”

Chitanda nodded and tilted her head to look down to the opposite end of the table. “What about you, Suzuki-san?”

Fukube had to admit, Suzuki could do an impressive job at hiding her grimaces when she put her mind to it. “Yeah, I guess it’d be lame if I was the only one sitting out.”

“That sure is a lot of us, though,” Ibara said, pointing her finger across the table as she silently counted them up. Satoshi found a sudden vested interest in his miso soup “Eight’s a bit much for a full party to go through the inn together. We’ll get in the way of other guests and make a mess.”

“Ah, you’re right, I didn’t account for this many,” Chitanda said.

“We can just go in pairs then, right?” Tanae said. Oreki hadn’t pegged him as the type to care at all about what was going on, but maybe something else was involved. It was really none of his business. “We shouldn’t be too much trouble that way.”

Mukui swallowed, but it didn’t seem to be from anything he was eating. “How are we planning on picking the pairs, though?”

“Let’s draw lots,” Oreki said. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with another arbitrary selection process like the one Suzuki had roped him into last time. Nobody objected, but Satoshi still wasn’t making any form of eye contact with him. Not that Oreki was helping on that matter. “We can act like it’s a bit closer to a real mystery that way, right, Chitanda-san?”

The way she smiled wasn’t quite infectious, but it did make Oreki feel a bit better about speaking up. “That’s a great idea, Oreki-san. Should we pair up now so everyone can get acquainted if need be?”

That was all it took to repurpose some of their used chopsticks into pairs. Hiraoka insisted on being the one to hold the bundle of makeshift lots. Starting with Tanae, they worked their way around the table, to Mukui, then Ibara, Chitanda, Oreki, Suzuki, and ending on Satoshi. As everyone compared results, Oreki couldn’t help notice the way Satoshi let out a sigh of relief or how Suzuki scrunched up her nose for just a second.

“Ha, lucky me!” Hiraoka cheered, leaping up in her seat. “I got Oreki-san. With the super detective on my side, this is in the bag!”

Having been too distracted by the others, Oreki looked to his chopstick. Sure enough, it matched the one Hiraoka was waving around like a haphazard conductor’s baton.

Maybe he’d overestimated how much less of a trouble letting random chance take care of things could be.

* * *

In many ways, Fukube had lucked out when he’d managed not to pull the matching chopstick to Mayaka—or even Houtarou. However, he didn’t get the opportunity to mingle with one of his fellow university students, when he’d been hoping fate would allow him to work with Suzuki and stop second-guessing himself. Instead, he’d managed to match lots with Chitanda sitting across from him, and she’d given him a “I’m looking forward to working with you” along with her polite smile.

She wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead, her face had screwed up in a tight concentration as she and Fukube made their way around the rec area that he’d memorized the layout to yesterday. There was a group occupying one of the ping pong tables, and their laughter spilled out into the hallway. Fukube wondered when the last time it was that he’d felt so at ease with his friends.

“Fukube-san, are you coming?” Chitanda asked, already farther down the hall. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, a sharp contrast against the pale tones of her yukata. One of Chitanda’s slender pointed around the bend in the pathway. “It doesn’t look like there’s any clues here, so we should keep going.”

Fukube clenched his hands into fists for a moment to break away from his thoughts. It only took a second, then he jogged up to Chitanda’s side. “Sorry, I was spacing out a bit,” he said, since it was close enough to the truth. Without Houtarou or Mayaka around, keeping up a smile was easier—or was it harder, since he didn’t instinctively plaster it on his face. “Though it feels kind of like cheating if I’m paired up with you, Chitanda-san. Since you set this up and all.”

Satisfied that Fukube had caught up, Chitanda continued down the hall, her footsteps too light to make any sound. “Well, normally, that’d be the case, sure. But to tell the truth, I didn’t want to miss out on the chance to participate with the rest of you. So I asked the inn staff if they’d be willing to hide the toy—ah, I mean the ‘missing pet’ for us.” The way she could do such things without hesitation was something Fukube still felt amazed by, even all these years later. “They were kind enough to agree, so I don’t have any idea where things are, just like the rest of you.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Fukube focused on heading down the hall, his fingers trailing along the wall as he walked. The surface was smooth, without the slightest bit of grime along the paint. In the next doors, there was a room filled with miscellaneous board games, then another with some very basic gym equipment. Not that Suzuki liked using treadmills, anyway. “But if we were looking for a real missing dog, someone would definitely have noticed them by now.”

Chitanda laughed one of her airy laughs, sounding embarrassed for a moment. “That’s true. Then again, it was the only thing I managed to think of. I’m sure Oreki-san would’ve done better.” Fukube pressed forward so she wouldn’t notice the frown forming on his face, then realized there wasn’t much of a point as Chitanda had fallen behind. “Oh, let’s look in here, Fukube-san.”

By the time Fukube had sorted out his expression, Chitanda had already entered one of the rooms, her dark hair flicking behind in her wake. Following, Fukube stepped into what looked to be a general longue area, with comfortable looking chairs sitting around the room. Chitanda was busying herself by checking around the corners, and Fukube decided to play along by looking around the edges of the room. The contemplative silence between them couldn’t quite manage to be comfortable.

_I wonder if the others are doing any better?_ he wondered, leaning over the back of a chair to check the space behind it. There was nothing but shadows and the faintest traces of dust, which had nothing to do with the somewhat sour taste that bloomed in his mouth. Thinking about everyone else was a poor choice, because—

“Fukube-san, will you forgive me if I say something forward?”

Fukube looked over his shoulder. Chitanda stood there, her face set in an unusually stern distraction. Thankful for the chance to keep his thoughts from wandering into unwanted territory, Fukube gave an encouraging nod. “We’ve been friends for a long time, Chitanda-san. You don’t have to be so formal with me.”

“Then why are you acting so strange around everyone?”

Fukube chuckled, but he had hesitated too much. “I don’t know what you’re talk—”

“Fukube-san,” Chitanda repeated, and Fukube let the lie die in his throat. It had been a lame excuse anyway. “I understand that things might be awkward with you and Ibara-san after everything. And I’m not saying that you should get over it or anything. But…” Chitanda had that guilty expression on her face, like she thought she had said too much, but she sucked in a breath and continued anyway. “I think you’re trying too hard to distance yourself from it.”

Guilt mixed with some other hot emotion in Fukube’s gut. “Did Houtarou say anything to you about this?” Because she was right, and Fukube had been trying to distance himself, so there was plenty of time for Houtarou to talk to the others and—

But Chitanda blinked for a second, confusion flashing in her eyes before she caught herself. “Oreki-san hasn’t said anything about that to me.” No, Chitanda wouldn’t speak up simply over Houtarou telling her to do something. There was a reason Fukube wasn’t fit to draw conclusions if he’d ever saw one. “But I’ve talked with Ibara-san, and I know it’s not my place to talk about this. But more than just being interested in you romantically, Ibara-san values you as a friend. She’d rather have that than anything else and I think…well, I think you’re both being unfair!”

It made sense why Chitanda had wanted to enter a room rather than keep searching the halls; Fukube hadn’t seen her get so worked up in a while. She didn’t shout the way Mayaka did or start throwing out insults the way Suzuki would. Chitanda’s passion always came through in the way she chose her sentences, in that flush of exertion that stained her cheeks. To make it worse, she never even got angry, just spoke up when she wanted to express her mind.

She was being far too kind to him, though.

_Because I really am being unfair._

Any other time, Fukube would have scrambled for some excuse, anything he could use to deflect the situation. But that wouldn’t get him anywhere, and it wouldn’t satisfy Chitanda. She may even drag Houtarou into it, and that would just make a bigger mess.

So Fukube dragged up the strength to tell her the truth.

“You’re right,” he said, almost not recognizing the self-depreciating tone in his own words. It was different to hear something out loud that you almost always internalized. Surprise washed over Chitanda’s expression, as if she hadn’t expected such a calm reaction. Even though he wanted to, Fukube found that he couldn’t avoid her eyes. “I know this whole mess is my part. I’m…trying, though. There’s something I want to do. I don’t know if it will fix it, but it’ll make things move forward, I think.”

“What is it?” Chitanda asked, her voice quiet again. It was only thanks to the silence around them that Fukube caught her tone—reserved but hopeful. “What are you going to do, Fukube-san?”

Fukube shook his head, at last tearing away from her mesmerizing gaze. No wonder Houtarou always got so sucked up in her, when she could look at you like that. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that, Chitanda-san. Not because I don’t trust you, but because it’s something between Mayaka and me.” Unable to stand it anymore, he tossed in a wink. “Can you keep that a secret, okay?”

She must’ve noticed his act, but Chitanda didn’t call him out on it. She just nodded, that serene expression over her face. “I understand, Fukube-san. I’m just glad that things will be okay.”

He didn’t share her optimism, but he didn’t have the heart to say that. So instead he tossed on one of his smiles and nodded. “That’s what I’m aiming for, Chitanda-san, so leave it to me. But until then, we have a lost pet that we’re supposed to be looking for, right?” And with a few simple words, Chitanda’s demeanor shifted, into a mix of relief at his words and enthusiasm for the experience they’d come together to share. Deciding that there was nothing else he could do for now, Fukube let himself fall into the rhythm with her.

_Coward,_ he could hear Suzuki say.

* * *

Mukui had felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of anxiety since he had left breakfast, Tanae at his side. It seemed that, unlike last time, their pairs hadn’t been kind enough to spare Mukui. Going through a night unscathed in the same room and Tanae’s resolution to stop bullying were both enough reassurance that Mukui wasn’t going to end up in any trouble through the impromptu scavenger hunt.

That wasn’t the problem.

It was just standing next to him.

Whenever Mukui compared himself to Tanae even, he felt so—

Tanae looked beneath the vending machine, another sigh spilling out from his lips. When he stood up, slight frustration creased his brow set, and Tanae ruffled a hand through his short hair, the faintest traces of dark color starting to reemerge amongst his roots. “This is kind of pointless, huh?” Tanae said. “There’s really not a lot to go on. Sorry that Kouna dragged you into this.”

Realizing that Tanae was talking to him Mukui shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s a bit better than having her probe me for strategies.” Despite her flippant behavior, Hiraoka had mentioned something about planning on studying psychology. In some ways, that devil may care attitude made her a formidable person to have trying to analyze you, since she didn’t pull any punches. Not knowing what else to do, Mukui cast his gaze down the hall and absentmindedly started picking at his cuticles. “Chitanda-san said that the, ah, ‘missing pet’ is definitely somewhere in the inn. I-I’m sure if we keep searching with so many of us, we’ll find it.” Catching the stutter in his own words, Mukui’s anxiety spiked ever higher. He couldn’t even manage speaking like a normal person.

Tanae didn’t seem to take any notice, shifting the slightest bit in Mukui’s peripheral vision. Glancing back over, Tanae had shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, I suppose that if Fukube and Oreki think this isn’t some prank, it’s probably okay,” he said, lightly kicking at the ground. “‘Sides, Suzuki looked like she was in a shit mood. I don’t wanna hear from her _and_ Kouna’s whining if we don’t do our part.” Tanae shrugged, then resumed the trek down the hall. “Well, we said we’d cover this floor. Let’s go finish it up.”

And even though there were hundreds of words that Mukui wanted to say, all he did was follow behind.

* * *

For once in her life, sucking in a breath of fresh air didn’t do a thing to improve Suzuki’s mood.

She knew that she had a negative attitude most of the time, but, despite what everyone thought, she did have moments where she felt calm. While running or working out was the best way to calm her nerves, sometimes she just needed a little but of sunshine, some clean air, and a few moments without anyone saying something stupid to her, and she could feel alright.

Well, she had managed to make it outside. In fact, she’d requested it when they were splitting up investigation areas. The inn was a beautiful place in daylight, and they had enough outdoor longue areas and even a garden to maintain the peaceful environment. And even though the sun was out, it was still early enough in the day that May temperatures hadn’t creeped too high yet.

No, none of that was the problem. It was her partner.

_So this is the girl, huh?_

Suzuki had thought that about twenty times since meeting Ibara, if not more. And the whole time she hadn’t been able to come to any reasonable conclusion as to why Fukube had thought they were alike. Sure, Ibara looked a little tomboyish with that short haircut of hers, and she had no problem diving into conversation (or searching through flowerbeds in the garden, as the moment had it), but those were common enough traits. Other than that, they both had brown hair? Though she’d tried not to think about it at all, Suzuki felt flummoxed.

Gritting her teeth, Suzuki abandoned shifting through the large clusters of leaves of the plant in front of her, letting the supple stems slip out from between her fingers. The plant rustled as it slipped back into place, and Suzuki moved over to the next section. Though, when thinking about a real animal, it made sense for them to be outside, but a stuffed animal wouldn’t hold up too bad if it decided to rain or something. Coming up empty again, Suzuki pulled back and glanced over to check on Ibara’s progress.

Who just so happened to be looking at Suzuki, rather than the patch of flowers.

The moment their eyes met, Ibara turned back to her work—but not before Suzuki caught her expression. That hadn’t been a curious glance to see how your scavenger hunter partner was doing, oh no. That had been an observant gaze, and Ibara had looked all the world like there was a puzzle she’d been trying to figure out that had nothing to do with some shitty hidden stuffed animal.

_This girl is just as much of any annoyance as you are, Fukube. And your intuition is shit._

Suzuki never beat around the bush when something was on her mind, and yet Ibara was doing just that. She continued to peer around the flowerbeds, studiously appearing as if she was hard at work. Fukube had been right when he’d said it had been a mistake in thinking Suzuki and Ibara had anything in common. Such a roundabout approach to anything just grated on Suzuki’s nerves.

So she wasn’t about to start doing it.

Getting back to it, Suzuki leaned around the trunk of a small tree, supporting herself with hands pressed against the textured bark. As she scanned the foliage around it, she raised her voice loud enough to be heard even with the couple of meters between them and said, “If you’ve got something to say to me, I’d appreciate it if you just got it out of the way.”

There was a moment of silence as Ibara paused in her actions, and all Suzuki could hear was the way the breeze slipped through the plants and the sound of the inn’s windchimes tinkling somewhere far off in the distance. It was just enough of a pause to let Suzuki know that Ibara was hesitating on what to say—whether to speak her honest mind or play nice with strangers.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t sure if you would be okay with me talking while we worked,” Ibara said. Playing nice it was, then. Almost everyone in the damn “investigation” group was a coward. Suzuki may have thought Hiraoka was annoying as all hell, but at least the girl could say her true thoughts without hesitation. “We kind of talked a bit last night, but I didn’t want to distract you.”

The only reason that Suzuki didn’t scoff at the notion was because she wasn’t _that_ irritated. Yet. “Well, it’s not like this is exactly high-level mystery solving here.” Suzuki pushed herself away from the tree and back onto the main garden path, feeling that familiar tension in her legs. She’d gone for a run before breakfast, but it seemed like she’d need another one at the rate things were going. “I really don’t mind if you want to lay into me, though. I’d rather you be straightforward than go forcing yourself.”

Suzuki turned back to Ibara, finding the other girl’s mouth hanging somewhat open in shock. A faint flush had crept over her cheeks, making her about the same color as the flowerbed next to her. “Suzuki-san, I—”

“Ibara-san,” Suzuki said, making sure she maintained eye contact. Ibara didn’t seem to have the sense of mind to look away. Missing her jacket, Suzuki settled for jamming her hands into the smooth pockets of her yukata. “I get that you don’t want to make things awkward ‘cause I’m friends with Fukube and Oreki, but this crap is ten times worse, if you ask me. So just get it over with, okay?”

Come to think of it, Suzuki’s approach was nothing like what Fukube had wanted. Well, she wasn’t planning on screwing up that other thing, anyway. Ibara stood up, still looking far too docile for what the situation warranted. “Suzuki-san, we’ve really only just met and—”

That time, Suzuki _did_ let the snort loose. “—and you’re upset because I joined your little reunion with your friends—not to mention it was Fukube’s idea.” The color on Ibara’s cheeks darkened, slipping every closer to the vibrant shade of her eyes. “I’m not gonna say I know everything, but I get the gist of it. So I’d really rather you went ahead and told me off or whatever other junk you’re thinking so we can just clear the air, kay?”

If anyone happened to walk past, they might have looked like a couple of friends having a disagreement or private chat while on vacation. The silence pressed into them again, and Suzuki waited for what seemed like a minute while the sun warmed a spot into her hair. Just when Suzuki was about to toss a little more oil on the fire, Ibara’s expression set.

“What’s the deal with you and Fuku-chan?”

_There it is._

“Why did he think it was so important to bring you here? Why couldn’t he have just gone on pretending everything was normal, like always? This is the worst!” Ibara clenched her small hands into fists, her expression a blur off too many emotions for Suzuki to bother deciphering. “I knew things were going to be different when we went off to college, but this is—” Despite being on the end of the verbal onslaught, Suzuki couldn’t help but grin. “And what in the world are you smiling about?”

In any other situation, Suzuki might’ve summoned enough manners to apologize. But the truth of it was that she didn’t feel sorry at all. “You want me to answer those in order, or what?” Looking bewildered, Ibara did a decent job of not letting her frustration fade away. Suzuki flicked her bangs out of her face. “Never mind that. I’ll just answer what I can. To answer what’s going on with Fukube and me, he asked me on a date.”

Ibara’s mouth flapped, but she couldn’t seem to figure out what sort of response to give that.

“I said yes,” Suzuki continued, deciding that if she was going to ask Ibara to dump everything out there, she might as well be fair enough to do the same, “though really it was just something to do. That idiot can’t sort his feelings out for the life of him.” No, that wasn’t quite true. That was why— “As for what I’m doing here, I’m making sure that little punk doesn’t go and puss out on everything he tried to sound to high and mighty about. I’m guessing he didn’t meet your expectations because maybe he’s trying move on? Beats the hell out of me.” The smile still stretching over her face, Suzuki tilted her head a bit for emphasis. “And to be honest, if you were this honest with your feelings all the time, I think we’d get along a lot better, Ibara-san.”

Suzuki gave that a moment to sink in. Once she’d gotten so worked up, Ibara didn’t seem like the type to back down. Even if it hadn’t been her reasoning, Suzuki was glad that she’d insisted on taking the outdoors. Much less of a hassle. Counting out the different colors of flowers spreading out around them, Suzuki waited for Ibara to figure out her response.

“I… Alright,” Ibara said, sounding way calmer than Suzuki had expected. But it wasn’t a forced calm, so that counted for something. “Okay, I get that. I’m just being unreasonable here. But what about you, Suzuki-san?”

Suzuki raised an eyebrow. “Like I said, I’m here ‘cause—”

“No, not that. I heard you the first time.” Not knowing what else to do, Suzuki snapped her mouth shut. “But you said that Fuku-chan asked you out to kill time because he can’t sort out his feelings. So what about you?” _What’s there to even say to that? He’s a pain in the ass._ Despite Suzuki’s forming scowl, Ibara shook her head, looking way too satisfied. “No, that’s a silly question, isn’t it? You don’t have to answer.” Glancing up towards the sky, Ibara used a hand to shield her eyes. “We’ve been out here a while, haven’t we? It’s probably almost time to meet up with the others. We should head back in, Suzuki-san.” And then, with a politeness that was completely different from Chitanda’s, Ibara said, “I look forward to getting along with you.”

And with that, Ibara dusted a few stray leaves away from her yukata and stepped past Suzuki on the path to the inn. Suzuki tried to push away her frustrations by clenching her fists and teeth, but it didn’t do any good. She couldn’t well go around kicking something in the inn’s flimsy sandals, so Suzuki settled for punching her own palm with the opposite fist, sending a tingling feeling up her arm.

“Dammit.”

_Fukube’s intuition isn’t as shit as he makes it out to be._


	9. Sunday, May 5

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Sunday, May 5

* * *

Falling asleep early the previous night had been easy with how exhausted Oreki had felt after a whole day in Hiraoka’s presence. As such, he woke up feeling rested, but earlier than he’d planned to. There was hardly even any light behind the screens over the windows, and a glance at his phone all but confirmed there was still over an hour before the group had agreed to meet up for breakfast.

Across the floor, Satoshi was still dead asleep, his face peaceful and his snores softly brushing through the air. Oreki did his best to roll over and join his friend, but even the comfortable futon didn’t do any good, and Oreki could only stare at the walls, hoping that boredom would be enough for his body to take pity on him and allow him to drift off to sleep.

It wasn’t.

_This is what I get for napping all of Friday away._

With a reluctance that was all but engrained upon his soul, Oreki pulled himself up into a sitting position. Satoshi didn’t so much as stir, and Oreki found that he was grateful for it. With the combined lack of success on the scavenger hunt the day before, not to mention the atrocious partner combinations thanks to fate’s mocking, the mood amongst their party had felt strained to say the least. He was more than content to have a few moments of peace to himself before they went back on the hunt for their “missing pet.”

Slipping away to the bathroom for a few moments, Oreki swapping to a non-wrinkled yukata and finished blinking himself awake and decided that going on a walk was worth the effort to kill time and not need to greet Satoshi upon waking up. Snagging the book he’d brought along, Oreki kept quiet as he slipped out the room’s door and headed down towards the lobby, since it was the shortest route to the longue chairs outside where he’d tried to pull answers out of Suzuki two nights ago. It seemed that not many other people were awake given the hour, and Oreki yawned as he entered the lobby. The receptionist at the counter gave him a greeting, an Oreki gave a polite response just as the main doors pushed open, revealing Suzuki.

Unlike the more relaxed attire she’d taken on when around the inn, Suzuki had swapped back into her usual attire of tight fitting spats, tennis shoes and her baggy jacket. With her hair pulled back into its usual ponytail and the sweat slicking over her skin, it was obvious that she’d just come back from a run. Given her stern expression, Oreki would’ve been satisfied with managing to slip past her, but fate didn’t seem to be in his favor yet. Her scowl deepening, Suzuki crossed over the lobby at an impressive speed for not even jogging and latched onto Oreki’s arm without remorse.

“Can I help you, Suzuki-san?” Though he tended to put a bit more thought into his words, it wasn’t worth worsening Suzuki’s mood over. Not that it seemed to do enough to improve her mood, though.

“You sure as hell bet you can help me,” Suzuki said, her voice almost bordering on a growl. Why had Oreki suggested that they draw lots for their partners again? “I’ve had enough of this nonsense, so let’s just get it over with. I’m sick of feeling all pissy and watching Fukube give that damn kicked puppy look when he thinks no one’s looking. Oh, and sorry you’re getting this instead of him, but you’re here, Oreki, and he’s not.”

Noting the dropped honorific from his name, Oreki went along with her train of thought and nodded. “Should I get Satoshi for you?”

Suzuki barked out one of her laughs that made it clear that nothing was funny. “No, no, that’s what we need. I said I’d go ahead and make sure he doesn’t wuss out on that other thing. But _this_ is just pissing me off, so I’m doing something about it.” Her grip didn’t tighten on Oreki’s arm, but the look in her eyes was so sharp he couldn’t help but swallow the lump that had manifested in his throat. “You two need to talk. Not about Ibara, but about _you_, you get me? Because whatever you’re upset about and what he’s upset about probably have a lot more in common than you think.”

“Ah.” Oreki didn’t bother denying her insinuation. Suzuki put on that air of indifference, but he knew that she noticed a lot more than people would expect at first glance. “I’m guessing this isn’t an option.”

“Oh, it’s an option if you want me to kick both your skulls in.” Suzuki huffed and released her grip, but she still seemed tense enough that striking him in the middle of the lobby didn’t seem beyond her. “I mean, you do still have a choice, but it’s all about if you want to face the consequences, you know? I’m sure that Tanae would be able to tell you how hard I can kick.”

Connecting enough dots between Suzuki’s words and the bruise that had marred their classmate’s face for a good week, Oreki decided at a rapid pace for his standards and nodded. “Got it,” he said, tucking his book under his arm and redirecting his course. “I’ll just…go take care of that now, alright?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Suzuki said, managing not to sound the slightest bit happy about it. She pushed her bangs back, sweat making wayward strands of hair stick to her face. “Agh, dammit, still not good enough. If I’m not there for breakfast, let the others know I went out for a run, yeah? Later, Oreki-san.”

Without even giving him a moment to reply, Suzuki turned on her heel and exited back out the inn’s entrance, presumably to run some more. Oreki didn’t know where she got the energy—or, rather, why she bothered to put so much effort into her irritation.

_Still, it won’t do any good if I end up being the next target._ Giving up his quiet time, Oreki trudged his way back upstairs. Enough time had passed since he’d gotten up for more sunlight to be pressing against the back of the window screens, adding a faint tinted glow to the room. Setting his book aside, Oreki plopped himself down next to the still sleeping Satoshi. Given his own tendencies, Oreki generally tried not to interrupt other people’s rest, but Suzuki’s orders were enough incentive for him to break that rule.

“Satoshi,” he said, shaking the other boy’s shoulder. Satoshi groaned, rolling off his side and onto his back. Oreki didn’t let up. “Come on, get up, we need to talk.”

Starting such a conversation wasn’t in his usual activity at all, and it seemed to be enough or Satoshi to crack an eye open. “Houtarou…?” he asked, still asleep enough that he didn’t seem to recognize that they’d hardly spoken a word to each other over the past few days. “Did I sleep through my alarm or something?”

“No.” Satoshi blinked and sat up, his mouth opening in a yawn. Oreki looked away for a moment, unsure of the best way to even start this. The truth seemed good enough. “I ran into Suzuki-san a bit ago.” That was enough to catch Satoshi’s attention, and something between hurt frustration flickered in his expression before he could even muster enough of himself to control it. “She pretty much told me to talk to you because she’s tired of watching us.”

“Mm.” Satoshi rubbed the sleep out of his eyes for a few moments, and _then_ the words seem to catch up with him. “Wait, what? Suzuki-san said that? And you listened?”

Oreki held back a sigh since it wouldn’t help, but Satoshi’s disbelief wasn’t making this any easier. “Look, she’s right, okay? We haven’t really…talked about this. Or anything. And it’s not getting us anywhere.” Even without Suzuki’s threat, _that_ was the real reason why Oreki had agreed. “So I wanna be open about it. ‘Cause I don’t get why you’re so insistent on having her around. And I know you have questions, too, so go ahead and ask them.”

With his hair a mess, Satoshi didn’t look like he was ready to have a serious conversation, but he didn’t outright deny the idea. Or try to pretend like things were okay. Oreki tried not to think about whether that was because he’d mentioned Suzuki’s name or not. It didn’t matter. “Alright,” Satoshi said after a few moments, “I’ll talk about Suzuki-san if you answer my questions.”

Oreki bobbed his head in a minimal nod. “Alright.” It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.

“Why did you bother trying to go to university, Houtarou?” Oreki blinked. Satoshi didn’t sound accusatory—just curious. “I mean, yeah, I think you should. It’d be a waste of all your brainpower. But you just decided to go without any fuss. You sister or your parents didn’t have to pester you or anything. So what changed? What made you want to bother to try?”

They exchanged glances while Oreki opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say. To him, the reason had been obvious, so clear. But he’d never talked to anyone about it, not even Satoshi—not even his _best friend_. Which was unfair, because Satoshi worked hard to never try and draw conclusions, and Oreki _knew_ that.

_So then why didn’t I…?_

“Chitanda-san,” Oreki said.

“Huh?” Fukube asked, not quite grasping why the girl’s name was coming up. Trying to put it into the right words was embarrassing, and Oreki cast his gaze down to his lap for a few moments. “Wait, you’re telling me that—? Ah, dammit, I was so stupid, getting worked up over nothing. Sheesh, why didn’t you just say that, Houtarou?”

Oreki shifted, glancing up at Satoshi, who was rubbing a hand down his face. “I didn’t think about it.” Even though it was a lame reason, Satoshi just chuckled. “Or I guess…I was embarrassed to say it. But, yeah, I decided to go ahead and try a little bit. So I could at least support her a little. That’s all there was to it.”

“Ah, man, you can’t say no to her, huh?” Though it was unlike him, Oreki could feel his cheeks heating up the slightest amount. Satoshi smirked, pointing a finger at his friend. “For all your talk about not doing anything if it takes too much effort, you’re way too easy, man.”

“Well what about you then?” Oreki’s tone hadn’t been accusatory, but Satoshi’s expression still dropped. For once, though, Oreki wasn’t about to let it go. “About Suzuki-san. I haven’t tried to understand at all. Because I thought you were being irresponsible, like it was any of my business. So, as your friend—” and totally not just because Suzuki had threatened him “—why did you want her to come along? Are you serious about her?”

Maybe they were unfair questions to ask, but Satoshi had made a deal. And while he spent several seconds toying with his hair, he still went to answer them anyway. “With Suzuki-san, I was just trying to run away. I mean, at least when I first started talking to her.” Satoshi sucked in a breath, that self-pitying look flicking on his face for a moment. “But Suzuki-san’s not the type to let other people run away. So she’s here because I won’t have the courage to do this otherwise.”

Oreki pursed his lips together. “You’re going to talk to Ibara, then?”

“Yup,” Satoshi said, his smile coming out as more of a grimace. “And this time, I’m going to answer her feelings properly.”

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, the collective power of their combined groups had had absolutely zero luck in unearthing the pseudo missing pet. With a day and a half of searching behind them, Mukui felt certain that they must’ve looked through every corner of the inn already, and yet they’d come up short. Even discussing the matter as a group seemed to be yielding no results, as Fukube scratched off a location at the bottom of his list.

Hiraoka squinted across the table, her nose scrunched up in disbelief. “Are you sure there’s not anywhere left we can look at?” she asked. “This is how these sorts of mysteries play out, right? There’s some super secret hidden location that everyone missed, and that’s where things were hidden the whole time, yeah?”

Fukube shook his head, the smile on his face looking much more at ease than Mukui had seen the other by over the next few days. “As much as I’d like that to be the case, Hiraoka-san, I _did_ look over this place the first day we got here. I may not be good at solving mysteries, but at least put some trust in my information gathering skills.”

Beside Fukube, Suzuki grunted. “Is that why you suck so much at schoolwork?”

“I do just fine on tests that are reciting facts!”

“Too bad that critical thinking is a skill you need in college.”

“Wow, Suzuki-san,” Ibara said, pausing partway through bringing a bite of fish to her mouth, “you sure managed to peg Fuku-chan down easily. It’s only been a month or so since you guys met.”

Suzuki smirked in that way that sent shivers down Mukui’s spine—if only because it reminded him of how she had stood off against Tanae on the steps of the student success center. Judging by the way Tanae was trying not to choke on his miso soup, he seemed to be thinking of the same thing. “Now, Ibara-san, it’s not like Fukube here is a particularly hard guy to figure out.”

Fukube at last recovered from the shock of watching the easy exchange between the two girls. “You’re ganging up on me. How is that even remotely fair?”

“You’re the one who wanted to bring Suzuki-san along,” Oreki said with that disinterested look of his. Ibara nodded her agreement, and Suzuki’s smirk grew even wider.

Fukube threw his hands up into the air, and Chitanda giggled from the seat next to Mukui. She seemed to catch his questioning look and smiled. “It’s nice to see that everyone can get along so well,” she said, something in her voice almost sounding wistful. “Though I’ll admit, I didn’t think just a scavenger hunt would be so hard. We’re not even looking for a lot of things.”

Ibara shrugged. “Don’t ever say you can’t come up with something hard enough to stump Oreki then, Eru-chan.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any brilliant ideas, Oreki-san?” Hiraoka asked, leaning forward to look at him, a few locks of her air almost brushing against her rice. “I was totally expecting some amazing insight yesterday, but all we got was a bunch of dead ends.”

Oreki looked very much like sighing wasn’t even worth the effort. “It’d be easier if we had any clues, but since Chitanda-san didn’t actually go ahead and hide the toy herself, there’s not much to go off of.” Which had been the biggest problem they were facing. “I would like to find it, though. I’m getting tired of searching.”

Chitanda giggled. “I didn’t expect it to take this long, Oreki-san. Sorry.”

“Nn. It’s fine.”

“This would be a whole lot easier if it was a real dog, though,” Tanae said, picking up a chunk of beef with his chopsticks. “We’d just need to leave some food out, and we’d be golden. It’d come back to us without even having to do anything.” Oreki nodded his agreement, and even Suzuki seemed like she wouldn’t have minded the idea. Tanae shrugged. “Let’s just give it up, Kouna. We’re gonna be leaving tomorrow, so wouldn’t it be better to actually chill out?”

Hiraoka pouted. “What kind of lame ending is that, Jun-chan?”

“One where I actually get to enjoy my vacation?”

Hiraoka responded by smacking Tanae on the arm and sticking out her tongue at him.

“Well, if nothing else, maybe we should take a break for the afternoon?” Chitanda said. “I really don’t want to be a disturbance to anyone. Maybe after we rest a bit, we can get back to it in the evening?” Hiraoka seemed to grumble something under her breath, and that time Tanae decided to gently shove her. Hiraoka still just rolled her eyes and smiled at him. “Tanae-san is right. This is a holiday, after all…”

“Fine by me,” Suzuki said, pushing herself up from the table. “I’m gonna grab seconds. Anyone else want anything?”

“Oh, I’ll come, too,” Mukui said. He felt a bit better getting extra lunch if he wasn’t the only one. Suzuki’s appetite was even bigger than his, though. Mukui sat down his chopsticks and stood up to join her. “I wanted to try some of the karage they had.”

“Ah, yeah, I didn’t get the chance to try that, either.” With no one else volunteering, Suzuki nodded her approval and turned towards the kitchen. Mukui stepped away from the table and followed her as the chatter around their table continued. “You doing alright, Mukui-san?” Suzuki asked once they were about a meter away. “Rooming with those two must be exhausting.”

Mukui blinked, not expecting the shift in conversation. “You’re…not wrong.” Hiraoka’s hyper attitude alone was enough to make Mukui feel worn out enough to pass out at the end of the day, even with the awkwardness he felt. “I’m not exactly used to doing things like this. I didn’t have a lot of friends before college.” Suzuki didn’t bother to remark. Mukui shuffled a bit, starting to lose a bit of his appetite, even with the spread of food in front of him. “And, I mean, it’s nice that Hiraoka-san is pushing me forward, but I feel like I’m lagging behind. Like I’m not getting anywhere on my own.” He just stopped the words, _Like you are, Suzuki-san,_ from rolling off his tongue.

Not even hesitating, Suzuki started to load up her fresh plate with several dishes—karage included. “Dammit, there you go again, acting like you need to take care of everything by yourself.” Mukui hid his grimace by also filling his plate, but he couldn’t help but glace at Suzuki out of the corner of his eye. She sighed. “I guess I couldn’t criticize you for trying to improve, but you should take stock of things. If you try running everywhere at once, you’re not going to get anywhere, you know?”

Mukui froze, dropping the rice scoop straight back into the cooker. What Suzuki was saying made sense—and he was sure if he thought it over just a bit more, maybe some things about himself would start to become clearer. But until then, in that exact moment…

Suzuki managed to catch a glimpse of him, because she raised an eyebrow. “What the hell’s that look for? I mean, I know I usually don’t give out anything that’s like advice, but you don’t gotta look so shocked.”

If he wasn’t holding onto a plate of food, Mukui would have started flailing his hands in defense. “No, no, Suzuki-san, that’s not it! I mean it is it, just not _it!_ Okay, hold on, let me get a breath in—” Mukui put his plate down on the edge of the buffet counter and smacked his cheeks to get his focus back. It was like the whole Mystery of the Missing Pet episode was a test problem, and Mukui had just read the section he needed to figure out the answer.

Sucking on a breath, he grabbed Suzuki’s shoulders and said, “I know how to find the missing pet.”

* * *

Fukube wasn’t sure whether he should feel more impressed by the fact that someone had figured out the slowly frustrating scavenger hunt/mystery event or the fact that Mukui had nearly upended the table as he rushed back over with his results. Fukube didn’t think he’d seen Mukui ever speak his ideas without the slightest shred of hesitation like that. It was almost as new as the smile Mukui gave when his theory that the hotel staff was moving the stuffed animal around the place to simulate a real pet. He even had the honor of being the one to recover the plush dog. Despite Hiraoka’s protests (“Come _on_, Hero-kun, its eyes are begging for me to take it home!”), he decided to keep it once Chitanda offered it as a prize.

Dinner had turned into a kind of haphazard celebration, with even Chitanda producing a cake as a surprise for everyone. After some mixed conversation, the girls agreed to head to the bath together, though Hiraoka was still somewhat pouting over the lost opportunity to gain the stuffed puppy sitting in Mukui’s lap. Suzuki didn’t so much as glance back as she strode at the front of the group, but Houtarou’s green eyes lingered on Fukube, calling back to their morning conversation.

_Yeah, yeah, I know. When you have to tell me to get on with something, we’re definitely in trouble._

After talking things through, though, Fukube no longer felt any bitterness about how his friend had changed. Houtarou had his reasons, just as Fukube had his own. The difference was that he still needed to act on them—to get rid of the other unpleasant feeling that had been festering in him since the end of high school.

Fukube set his chopsticks across his plate and stood up, wheezing out “Mayaka” before she made it too far away. Tanae raised an eyebrow, but all Fukube could see was Mayaka, how she’d turned around without a moment’s hesitation at the sound of her name when he called it. Hiraoka heard the words as well and she was trying to sneak back closer to the conversation, but Chitanda gently grabbed Hiraoka’s wrist and pulled her along. “Would you mind…if we talked for a bit?”

From his obnoxiously accurate database of a memory, Fukube remembered Mayaka’s stunned expression—but in the present she didn’t even look the faintest bit surprised. She just gave a small and soft smile, without any hint of embarrassment. “Sure thing, Fuku-chan. Did you wanna go for a walk together?”

Unlike Hiraoka, the three remaining guys at the table all had the courtesy to not make any remarks or ask any awkward questions, though they were a bit obvious in how they stayed focused on the remainder of their meals. Fukube paid them no mind and nodded, walking alongside Mayaka to a different exit than the one the rest of the girls had taken. He wanted to make some small talk, but it didn’t seem right with the conversation they were going to have. Despite that though, the silence that hung between them wasn’t as awkward as it had been since they’d graduated.

Outside, the evening had invited in a tang of chill into the air, and Mayaka tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves of her yukata to ward off the cold. Being as far out in the country as the inn was and with no fully risen moon, the stars were crystal clear in the skies above. The faint hubbub of voices drifted through the night towards them from the direction of the outdoor baths, far away enough that you couldn’t make out the words, but close enough to make the presence of other people known. Satoshi and Mayaka’s footsteps comfortably creaked against the wooden porch walkway.

“Mayaka, is it alright if I talk to you about something important?”

Beside him, Mayaka shook her head, just like all the times she’d been exasperated with his antics since middle school. “I wouldn’t have gone with you if I wasn’t willing to listen to whatever it is, Fuku-chan.” Her choice of words made it seem like she didn’t know, but Fukube was certain that she at least had some sort of idea.

Sucking in a silent breath through his nose, Fukube took a few steps ahead of Mayaka and turned to face her. The peaceful environment almost made a good choice for a confession, but that wasn’t what he’d been planning to do at all.

“Mayaka, I want to answer your feelings honestly.” Fukube clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to have his concentration broken by seeing her expression. Too bad the memories of all the time he’d turned her down flashed behind his eyelids. “Over the past few years, I never once told you the truth. I did like you. I liked you a lot. And that scared me.”

He expected a sharp retort or maybe even a quiet concession, but Mayaka remained silent, letting him speak. Prying his fingers apart from the fists they had formed into, Fukube continued, “I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling at all, so I brushed you off. You didn’t deserve that, but I don’t blame you for what you told me, either. You had every right to choose yourself over some idiot who couldn’t even be honest with himself.”

Maybe if Suzuki had overheard him right now, she’d get upset. She’d pretty much told him Mayaka was just as responsible for clinging to him for feelings he hadn’t been willing to act on—and maybe Suzuki was right. Fukube couldn’t say for sure.

But even if it wasn’t his job to take responsibility for Mayaka’s feelings, Fukube could still act on his own.

“Even with that in mind, Mayaka, I decided. Because now I don’t feel the same way I used to. But I’m not going to pursue a relationship with you, either.” He dipped his head down in a bow, only opening his eyes when he knew that he’d be staring at the floor. “Just…thank you for caring about me, Mayaka. And I’m sorry.”

Fukube stayed frozen in place as a silence stretched out between them. It was the shuffling of Mayaka’s footsteps, and her sandaled feet came into Fukube’s view. He didn’t even get the chance to look up, and Mayaka’s fist bonked him right in the center of his head.

“Fuku-chan, you dummy,” she said, with all the usual irritation in her voice from whenever he did something stupid back in high school. Mayaka left her hand to rest on the back of Fukube’s skull, not even letting him face her. “You don’t need to be so dramatic about it. I was thinking about this stuff, too, you know? So it doesn’t matter what you decide to do, because we’re still going to be friends. Idiot.”

She bopped him on the head one more time for good measure, and Fukube winced as he used the opportunity to shield the back of his head with his hands. “Did you really have to call me stupid twice?”

“I’d say it’s well deserved, don’t you?” When Fukube looked back up to her, Mayaka had an almost mischievous grin stretching over her lips. “Sheesh, you’re the one who always goes on about not being able to think things through. Why are you going into overdrive now?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to change a bit, okay?” Convinced that he wasn’t going to fall prey to another attack, Fukube let himself stand up again, taking his head out of the immediate range of Mayaka’s reach. That didn’t stop him from eyeing her cautiously, though. Maybe hanging out with Suzuki so much had made him paranoid. “But you’re…really okay with this? You sure?”

Mayaka let out an over affected sigh. “Don’t make me repeat myself too much, Fuku-chan. It’s okay, so stop worrying. I’m just glad you were completely honest for once.” She glanced away from him, out to the sky and stars above. “We’ve got plenty of time in front of us to figure out our lives. And, sure, it kinda stings a bit, but I’ll get over it.”

He wasn’t sure which one of them initiated it, but soon Fukube and Mayaka shared a hug, giving each other support. There was an understanding hanging between them, one that didn’t need words or romantic intentions, and, for the first time in a very long time, Fukube felt like they’d not grown further apart, but instead closer.

* * *

Though Suzuki had agreed to join the other girls for a bath, she declined their offer so that she could hang around back on the inn’s patio, sprawled across a reclining chair. Chitanda and Ibara looked like they were about to explode if they didn’t get a chance to chat soon, and Suzuki didn’t feel like hearing it. Hiraoka’s inclusion in the group of girl talk only cemented her assessment, and Suzuki found a quiet place she could sit and enjoy her bottle of fruit milk post bath.

They’d be leaving tomorrow, and Suzuki could admit that she’d miss lounging around without the pressures of the real world hanging over her. Though not entirely relaxing, the vacation had been a good change of pace. Still, she missed the solitude of her apartment, a place that was all her own without someone else’s presence a constant threat to her private time.

“Suzuki-san.”

_Yup, just like that,_ Suzuki thought, though she didn’t feel as much of a spike of irritation as she’d expected. Taking a fresh sip from her fruit milk, Suzuki raised her head to meet eyes with Fukube. Considering where they were and who their company was, it was unlikely that they’d get any sort of privacy for very long, but she could hope. Not having the patience for any conventional greetings, she asked, “You get your shit together yet?”

Fukube nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

Suzuki raised an eyebrow. “Oreki _and_ Ibara?”

“Yup.”

“Well, color me somewhat impressed.” Taking another long swig from her bottle, Suzuki used the lull to look at Fukube. Something in his expression seemed to have shifted, and he wasn’t blindly smiling as much as usual. But she could recognize the tension that had melted from his shoulders, like he’d had someone push the knots out—except he’d gone and done it on his own. “Are you just gonna stand there and stare at me? Sit down.”

Fukube blinked, but he didn’t budge in the slightest. “I wasn’t sure if that’d be alright,” he said with a chuckle.

Suzuki harrumphed and knocked her knuckles against the reclining chair next to her. “Just hush up and sit already.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She could see the teasing lilt to his lips. The look of amusement didn’t last long as Fukube sunk onto the edge of the seat with a heavy sigh. Suzuki watched him, not used to seeing him look so raw and unfiltered. Even on the evening on the track where he’d started to cry in front of her, he hadn’t looked like that. Suzuki couldn’t even feel satisfied that he was holding himself back anymore. “Is it weird that I…don’t really feel as relieved as I thought I would?”

“It’s not weird at all.” Realizing that she’d drained the last of her drink without even thinking about it, Suzuki crushed the fruit milk carton and sat it on the low table beside her. “You’re not used to situations like this. You could tell me none of this has caught up with you, and I’d believe it.”

Fukube threaded his fingers together, propping his forearms on his legs. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I just feel like nothing that’s happened is real.”

Suzuki shrugged. “Well, there’s not much I can do about that, since I haven’t seen any evidence that you _have_ done anything—” Fukube still had enough good humor left in him to give a look of mock hurt “—but I’m sure it’ll catch up with you. Until then, you should just go about things like usual. If it catches up to you, take some time to think about it. The rest should fall into place, so long as you’re not being a dumbass.”

That comment was enough to make Fukube verbally rise to the heckle. “What makes you think I’m gonna act stupid all of a sudden?!”

“Hm, I’m gonna put five-hundred yen on that you didn’t even _touch_ your homework before coming here.”

Fukube’s grunt and grimace were all the proof Suzuki needed.

“That’s terrible, Fukube.” She chuckled, pushing back her bangs. When she dropped her hand, the locks of hair fell back into place, one by one. Enjoying the look of panic on his face far too much, Suzuki let herself smile. “Hey, we still have a few days. Why don’t we meet up, I’ll put you through the Golden Week Homework Bootcamp special?”

“What’s the catch to that supposed to be?” Suzuki just stared at Fukube, forcing him to figure it out. She didn’t mind giving nudges in the right direction, but she didn’t spoon-feed people. With someone like Fukube, forcing him out of his comfort zone was really the best option. Once the realization dawned in his eyes, Fukube chewed on his lip for a moment. “Suzuki-san—”

She didn’t want to hear the pathetic excuse, either. “I’m not asking you to be obsessed with me.”

Fukube wrung his hands together a bit tighter, but he didn’t look away. When he opened his mouth to speak, the words were quiet, an almost frightened whisper: “Then what are you asking?”

“That you’re around. Is that so hard?” As far as Suzuki was concerned, that was enough. Fukube didn’t seem convinced, but she wasn’t about to force him, either. If he saw it her way, great; if not, then she’d deal with it. It wasn’t like it would be the end of the world. After several long moments, Fukube sighed.

“You’re mean, Suzuki-san.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” Fukube dramatically fell over on his chair with an overaffected sigh. “Geeze, I finally get through one mess, and you drag me right into another. You never stop moving, do you?”

“What can I say; I’m not a fan of sitting still.” Not when there was so much ahead of her—or when there were still things behind her that were all too close. Fukube started to smile as he stared up at the ceiling, and Suzuki watched him, feeling at ease. “Look, I know I’m being indirect, but I wanna make sure: you’re really okay with this?”

Fukube’s orange eyes flicked towards her, a mischievous flicker lighting them up. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I mean, I knew already, but the yukata really looks nice on you. Of course, that’s to be expected when your measure—”

Suzuki clamped her hand down on Fukube’s mouth so tightly that he might’ve choked if his nose had been caught in the crossfire. “Pervert,” she said, but the smile curving Fukube’s lips underneath her palm didn’t slip in the slightest. And even though Suzuki probably didn’t understand the emotions stirring in her any better than Fukube did his own, it was okay. They could keep moving forward, as per usual, and the rest would fall into place.


	10. Thursday, May 23

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Thursday, May 23

* * *

“Suzuki-san, I humbly request your assistance with my literature assignment.”

“I give you points for actually working on things ahead of time, but it’s still a bit concerning that you can’t wrap your head around basic response questions like these.”

“Is it just me, or do you never even try to spare my feelings?!”

In the few weeks that had passed since vacation, Suzuki’s once private study space in the upper floor of the music building had come to regularly host two. Across the table from her was Fukube, still proffering a half-completed assignment sheet, despite the fact that he’d flinched away from her insult. Suzuki could feel her lip starting to curl upwards in response to the easy atmosphere that had settled between them, and the traces of sun streaming through the windows from the partly cloudy sky only boosted her mood.

“Don’t you think that’s a silly question to ask after knowing me this long?” Wielding her chopsticks over her lunch with one hand, Suzuki accepted Fukube’s homework sheet with the other. Popping an entire gyoza into her mouth, Suzuki chewed as she read over what he had so far. As a first-year literature course, the workload wasn’t too complex: mainly questions about recalling events from the text with quotes, as well as a few ones that required some creative thinking to get through.

It didn’t take much to guess which ones Fukube requested help with.

Suzuki nodded her head in approval, and Fukube’s smile—not as wide as his faked ones, but so much more appealing—conveyed some hope that he was starting to get a hang of it. “You know,” Suzuki said after she’d swallowed her dumpling, “being able to regurgitate information isn’t even a skill anymore, especially with phones connecting to the internet. Sure, you’ll score points off of reading at a surface level, but if you can’t develop critical thinking, you’re going to have a hell of a time getting into the workforce.”

“Oh, come on! Suzuki-san, I can say for sure that you’ve only gotten harsher since Golden Week!”

“But,” Suzuki continued, paying no mind to Fukube’s most recent outburst, “you have all of college to build experience in that. And it starts with working on stuff like this.” Fukube looked like he couldn’t decide if it was worth getting his hopes up from the compliment or not. Suzuki slid the worksheet back over. “Well, you still need to look at the book to get this done. Come on, get to it.”

“Heh, I guess you’re right.” Fukube ducked down to his bag, coming back up with the paperback textbook. He squinted at the assignment again, and Suzuki gave him a series of guided questions to help him figure out the work as she continued to eat. Once he stopped whining about not being able to do it, he could handle it no problem. Suzuki would’ve preferred to make better use of her time, but helping Fukube not suck at school was worth it—in its own weird way. And, if all else failed, the review was nice to help her own work.

Even if she was just making that up as an excuse to not feel so soft.

“Whoa, holy crap, I answered all the questions,” Fukube said, flipping over his worksheet and holding it up to the light, as if there was some hidden problem he had missed. Suzuki shoveled the last of her lunch into her mouth and closed up her bento. “I never would’ve been able to get through this early without your help. Thanks.”

Starting to scowl, Suzuki waved her hand through the air. “You know you answered all of that stuff, right? All I did was prove to you that you can think stuff through.” Genuinely, it would do her better if he could handle his homework on his own, but there wasn’t any shame in reaching out for help. “Stop trying to push off your accomplishments onto someone else. I don’t need your help to feel confident in myself.” It was much more to her preference to stay knocked down a few pegs.

“Okay, but even if I admit I _did_ do this, you still helped.” Suzuki huffed and shoved her bento away into her bag. When she sat back up straight, Fukube was grinning at her, and Suzuki didn’t like the look of it in the slightest. “Hm, calling you tsundere doesn’t really count, because you don’t _dere_ in the slightest, but I think you’ve mellowed out in the past few weeks Suzuki-san.”

“I didn’t notice. Does that mean I should take more shots at your ego then?”

Fukube waved his hands through the air. “No, no, not necessary!” With the laughter under his words, he’d understood that she wasn’t entirely serious. “I just think I’ve seen more of what you’re like when you’re not frustrated. I kind of like it.”

Suzuki huffed and shook her head. “Considering how things are, I’d sure hope that you like something about me.” Not giving in to the teasing look in Fukube’s eyes, Suzuki stood, tossed her bag over her shoulders, and worked on freeing her baggy jacket sleeve from underneath one of the straps. “As you’ve already memorized, my next class is starting soon, so I’m gonna get out of here. I’ll be busy, but don’t forget we’re going out for dinner on Saturday.”

“With Hasegawa-san, right?” Suzuki may have only mentioned it once, but she wasn’t surprised that Fukube had already memorized the name. With a nod of confirmation, Fukube continued, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Have a good time at class and have a nice time with your friend, alright, Suzuki-san?”

“Don’t you go telling me what to do now,” Suzuki said, turning towards the exit. Fukube only chuckled. “If I were you, I’d be trying my best to make sure I didn’t fall behind on my schoolwork without someone there to babysit me over the next few days.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m going to do just fine!” Fukube said, sounding indignant. He may not have been the competitive type, but he could still do wonders when worked up enough.

So Suzuki decided to put a little fuel on the fire to help out. “So then go ahead and show me, Fukube.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, only looking long enough for Fukube’s jaw to drop at the sight of her smile. And before he could even begin to string two coherent syllables together, she tossed him a wave and headed off to class.

* * *

In order to get the type of class schedule he’d wanted, Oreki had needed to make some compromises.

While the prospect of a heavier workload wasn’t something he’d looked forward to (and part of why he’d been contemplating skipping out on college altogether before Chitanda had come into his life), he had to admit it was nice that university students didn’t have the same several hours per day all week class lineup. As such, he’d refused to even consider early morning classes, giving him some time to sleep in while people like Suzuki were already out and about. The tradeoff was that he had some rather clustered afternoons so that he could still meet his credit requirements and not need to run around to evening sessions.

Thursday afternoons were his one sanctuary.

Due to an unusual class structure, his lecture period in the middle of the afternoon didn’t meet up on those days. Yes, he still had class before and after, so he couldn’t make an early retreat, but it was worth it to have some breathing room that he could convert into focusing on his homework or even a quick nap.

And, regardless of whichever option he went for, the library was the absolute place to do it.

Aside from the sheer quietness of the place, the school’s library had plenty of secluded corners inside it. Oreki wasn’t particular to any one of them, so he tended to simply settle down in whichever spot happened to be empty and closest to the entrance.

For the Thursday at hand, that spot happened to be a table tucked away in the center of surrounding bookshelves, most of them holding older looking reference texts with dull colored spines. It was, unfortunately, a spot without a comfortable armchair in it, but Oreki hadn’t been feeling tired enough to sleep things away. Instead, he was working on refining the latest essay assignment for his history course. Though he knew his future didn’t have much to do with understanding the finer details of the past, it was still a good opportunity to keep up his GPA and practice his composition skills.

_And get one step closer to staying by Chitanda’s side._

Using his class textbook as a reference, Oreki settled into the process of outlining his main points. As a report, it wasn’t anything too complex, but he still needed to organize his thoughts. Unlike Satoshi, though, Oreki had a good enough grasp on the process of writing a paper that it wasn’t much of a struggle to figure out what he planned to talk about.

He was so absorbed in his task that he didn’t notice the person that sat down in the spot across the table until he took a pause to stretch.

A young woman sat across from him, her hair bordering right on that threshold between dark brown and deep black and cropped short in a style that looked a bit more intentionally put together than Ibara’s own chic yet fluffy style. Silver dangled from her ears and small gemstones sparkled on the choker around her neck. She’d rolled up her sleeves and clipped them into place, and a ribbon that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a high school uniform was tied but hung free, rather than tightly cinching up the open collar of her blouse. Caught with his arms stretched to the ceiling and with what had to be a dumbstruck look on his face, Oreki stared blankly into the newcomer’s amused smile.

“You’re Oreki,” the girl said, and it wasn’t a question. Still too stunned to move from his position, Oreki gave a minimum of a nod—and for once it wasn’t just about conserving energy. “Good, I didn’t screw it up. Score, aru!”

Oreki’s brow furrowed at the sentence closer. _Aru?_ Sure, her words had a somewhat foreign lilt to them, but it didn’t seem like her grasp on Japanese was that shaky. He got the feeling that Hiraoka would get a kick out of it, though.

With a celebratory fist pump out of the way, the girl coughed into her hand before resuming her more refined demeanor. Oreki tried his best to shift in his seat without looking too uncomfortable. “Alright, now that I’m here, I just wanted to ask you something, mmkay? And that question is: after everything that’s happened, do you still have a problem with it?”

If Oreki had felt confused before, the question only made the sensation increase. The jump in logic and vague inquiry didn’t fit into the neat blocks of his mind that had been formulating his essay. Though he could’ve puzzled it out, there wasn’t much point in wasting the effort when he could just ask. “A problem with what, exactly?”

“Hm, I see, I see.” The girl nodded, making her jewelry glitter as it flashed through the light. Elbow resting on the desk, she pointed a manicured finger at him. “Well, that’s answer enough for me. Seems like you’re not even concerned about it at all, anymore. Guess I was worked up over what I heard for nothing. That makes my job way easier, aru.”

Oreki frowned, unable to tell if it was worth it to try asking again since she’d completely brushed off his first question. Where had she even come from? Sure, Oreki hadn’t been trying to learn all of his classmates, but he felt that he would have at least passively recognized her if they shared a lecture. And though he didn’t, _she_ seemed to have an idea of who he was, even outside of knowing his name.

Checking a thin watch on her wrist, the girl hopped up from her seat. “I didn’t mean to take up your time like this, Oreki. Don’t mind me. Thanks for answering my question.” Though she kept her voice quiet enough for library standards, there was something undeniably peppy in her tone. Not even waiting for a response, she waved, slipping back towards the shelves. “Feel free to resume your normally scheduled life, aru. Good luck on your homework.”

She hadn’t even gone out of sight for more than two seconds before Oreki let his head drop towards the table, landing right on the corner of his textbook. A complete stranger showing up and asking cryptic questions: that was no doubt the sort of thing Hiraoka would eat right up. The armchairs could all be as full as they wanted; Oreki felt so damn exhausted, he had a mind to fall asleep right where he was.

_If there was ever a mystery that I could get away without solving, gods, please let it be this one._

* * *

Fukube was trying his best to be a good student. He really was. But if math happened to spontaneously combust one day, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

“Well, you’re starting to get the hang of it,” Mukui said, which Fukube knew was his tutor’s nice way of trying not to say that he was doing awful. Considering the way that Suzuki unrelentingly took shots at his ego, though, Mukui’s hesitation was a nice change of pace. That didn’t make it any easier to accept the worksheet he received back with several fresh pencil marks on it with grace. “You really are making it further through problems, you just keep incorrectly picking out which formulas to use for what.”

_Oh, trust me, Suzuki-san has made me very aware of that fact._ She’d taken to helping him out with some of his homework, but she’d given up when it came to math (each one of their sessions had ended with Suzuki dismissing herself for an energy burning run outside—long before Fukube had gotten anything done).

_Listen, if you’re a database, you should have zero trouble knowing formulas_, she’d said._ Stop intentionally sabotaging yourself by insisting on not thinking about things enough!_ The fact that she’d hit it on the head hadn’t helped matters, either.

Fukube’s eyes scanned over Mukui’s patient corrections—neat handwriting that didn’t give away the answers but still indicated where he’d gotten off track. _Even as a database, this _is_ something I should be able to do. Have I really been holding myself back so much, just to make a point? Have I been holding myself back for so long that I won’t be able to break the habit?_

“Well, we’ve been at this for a while, Fukube-san. We should probably take a break.”

Fukube blinked out of his reverie. “You sure, Mukui-kun? We’re already halfway through our session and we haven’t gotten very far.” And with Suzuki busy for the weekend, it was going to be a long haul to get things done in time for his Monday classes, let alone try to stay on par with keeping ahead.

“It’s because we _have _been at work for that long that we should take a break,” Mukui said, pushing up his glasses. If Fukube didn’t know the guy better, he would’ve guessed that it was on purpose. Still, his smile was too friendly to keep up with the “cool megane" vibe. “Your brain can actually only focus on one task for so long before it starts to lose steam. You’ve gotta take some sort of break, or you’ll just be wasting your time.”

“If you say so.” Fukube let his pencil clatter to the student success center table and roll across his worksheet; he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to stop the numbers swirling around in his head. “How have you been doing besides tutoring work, though? I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to actually chat since Golden Week.” Sure, they weren’t particularly close, but Fukube could say that they knew each other well enough to be acquaintances at the bare minimum.

Mukui looked up from his phone with a blink, almost confused by the question—before he broke into an easier smile. Fukube realized he hadn’t seen Mukui look like that once in the whole month and half of their short acquaintanceship. “I’ve mostly been busy with school. When I’m not doing that or tutoring, Hiraoka-san still drags me into ‘hero training.’ Though it’s mostly just watching old shonen anime from the nineties with her and Tanae-san.”

“Sounds rough,” Fukube said, with a touch of joking sympathy. But Mukui didn’t seem too troubled by mentioning Tanae’s name, and he just seemed more at ease than usual. Fukube slumped down onto the table, resting his chin on his arms. _If even Mukui-kun’s making progress, then I guess people can change a lot more than I thought._ Even Fukube was changing, bit by bit.

At least in his work habits. Bigger changes were a whole other beast, but he was trying—no matter how challenging that trying became after the moment of reprieve ended and working on the assignments resumed. As predicted, Fukube didn’t get to the end of his worksheet, but he had crossed the halfway point. Since he still had several days until the due date, it would have to do.

After giving his thanks and exchanging a few parting words, Fukube left Mukui to his next shift, then headed out of the building. He still had classes to attend over the next few days, and Suzuki would be too busy entertaining her company to serve as a distraction. It wasn’t really a bother, since Suzuki insisted on personal time to herself, but he’d still miss the opportunity to sneak in that one perfect comment that would almost make her smile, even though she resisted out of sheer stubbornness, or even just the reassurance that came from her presence that she’d kick his ass if she caught him slipping into his bad habits again. He needed that accountability.

Stepping outside of the student success building, May had made enough way for spring to come in and stretch the days out longer, so the sun wasn’t yet setting. The air was even warm enough to not need a jacket, and Fukube took a moment to enjoy the view of the scattered few students who were still out and about on campus, tending to evening courses or other obligations. Suzuki would be exercising right about now, sneaking it in before meeting with her friend Hasegawa. Maybe Fukube would go pester Houtarou into hanging out—

Or maybe he would try to figure out why there was a stranger that looked like she could be on some trendy fashion magazine pointing up at him from the foot of the stairs. Or why she looked like someone Fukube had seen before, but he couldn’t quite place…

“Lucky, I managed to catch you,” the girl said, a pleased smile on her face. Without giving Fukube time to respond, she climbed the few steps between them, tall enough that they still saw eye to eye, even with her on the lower ground. Her yellow eyes scrutinized Fukube’s face without a trace of hesitation. “Hm, I suppose you’re not too bad looking, aru. I mean, more cute than handsome, but I can dig it.”

Fukube’s mouth flapped, trying to find a protest without accidentally moving closer to the person invading his personal bubble to the extreme. Suzuki wouldn’t get mad at him if he wasn’t the one that started it, right? His mind scrambled, never good under pressure, and he managed to squeak out, “I have a girlfriend!”

“Well, yeah, I know that.” The girl straightened up enough that their noses weren’t mere centimeters apart, and Fukube let out a sigh of relief. She flicked some of her hair aside, something mischievous glinting in her eyes. “If it makes you feel better, I have a girlfriend, too, aru.”

_I have completely lost track of this conversation._

The girl giggled, tucking her hands behind her back. “Don’t worry about me, though; I’m just doing a little reconnaissance while I’ve got the chance.” Across the courtyard, the campus clocktower started to chime the hour, and the girl looked up the sky. “Whoops, I gotta get going. Places to be, you know. Later!” She flashed a wave, then took off across the courtyard. Fukube watched her go, and though he could have caught up with her, he didn’t bother.

His memory had finally kicked in that he _had_ seen the girl before—in a picture, with her hair longer and Suzuki at her side.

* * *

Hasegawa Jing Hua hummed to herself as she navigated Akiko’s kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner. Due to just having finished up a workout, Akiko had come home sweaty, and she’d retreated to the bath with the minimal greetings anyone would extend as a host. Hasegawa didn’t mind; Akiko had always been that way, and Hasegawa had a special rule in place that Akiko could always use her presence as an excuse to not put up any filters whatsoever.

And, so, Hasegawa continued to hum, blending together choruses of pop songs with nonsensical melodies as she saw fit. The Hamburg steak she’d picked up in her rush from the local grocery store to Akiko’s apartment sizzled in the frying pan, and Hasegawa had put together a rather impressive plating arrangement (if she had to say so herself, aru!) by the time Akiko had wandered out from the bathroom, as if summoned by the scent of dinner. Fresh from the bath, her hair wasn’t as frizzy as usual.

Akiko dropped down in front of the spot Hasegawa had set out for her. “Jing Hua, you’re a goddess.”

Hasegawa grinned, flopping down into her own seat. Even if she’d never been inside the apartment before, so long as Akiko was on the other side of the table, Hasegawa was exactly where she needed to be. “I’m not a goddess; you just don’t keep enough decent food in your fridge.” If she didn’t know how much Akiko could eat in one sitting, Hasegawa would have guessed that she wasn’t bothering to buy groceries at all. “I made seconds and thirds for you, but you gotta clear your plate.”

“A fucking goddess,” Akiko repeated, working through her meal at lightning speed. Not needing to recover calories with anywhere near the same voracity, Hasegawa took a much more measured approach to her steak. “Sorry I came back a bit late, though. I got really into the workout I was doing and kinda lost track of time.”

“No need to apologize, aru. I managed to amuse myself.” In fact, Akiko’s delay back had worked out well in Hasegawa’s favor as well.

Akiko grunted. “Working on your homework and stuff?”

Ah, that was a trusting, logical conclusion—only half of which was very like Akiko. She had a blind spot for Hasegawa, though Akiko really should have known better. Hell, Hasegawa should have known better, because her online degree program offered her both flexibility in her schedule and a dangerous freedom at the same time. Though she’d been able to use it to her advantage to sneak away for a trip to visit Akiko, that didn’t mean she’d used the afternoon to actually get anything academically productive done.

“I mean, that would make sense would it, aru?” Hasegawa giggled, and Akiko raised her eyebrow, not quite to the point of pure suspicion just yet. “I mean, I’m in a new town; did you really expect me to sit still in one place?”

Akiko sighed, but didn’t stop eating. “What did you get yourself into this time, Jing Hua?”

“Oh, that’s easy! I went and talked to your boyfriend, aru!”

And Akiko’s fork fell from her hand with a satisfying clatter.


	11. Saturday, May 25

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Saturday, May 25

* * *

Hasegawa spent the next few days dealing with an upset Akiko, which she’d pretty much expected. Their friendship was one built on cycles of getting frustrated with each other’s bad habits, sulking about it for a while, then coming back together, accepting the other for who they were. It helped that usually their bad habits came from the best of intentions, making their issues easy to forgive and forget.

Akiko had a hard time accepting what had happened as “the best of intentions,” though, and Hasegawa didn’t fully blame her. Hasegawa may have been the more sociable of the two, but that also lead to her putting her nose into places that weren’t always her business. But checking out your best friend’s new boyfriend to see what he was like was totally within the bounds of friendship, so Akiko would crack eventually.

_I didn’t even bother to tell Fukube anything juicy when I saw him, aru,_ Hasegawa thought as she finished plating up breakfast. _Though maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t mention I went and poked at that Oreki guy she was complaining about, too. Ah, well!_

The best way to gaining Akiko’s forgiveness was through food—it was half the reason Hasegawa had started learning about cooking in the first place. Humming, she got to work on setting the table. Sure enough, when Akiko emerged from her post-morning run shower, she made a beeline for the table and offered a quick thanks for the meal before digging in. Satisfied, Hasegawa sat on the opposite end and got to chowing down herself, biding her time and waiting.

“I am going to forgive you,” Suzuki said about halfway through her tamagoyaki, “because you make a damn good meal, and I don’t want to go the rest of my life without ever having your cooking again.” To emphasize the point, she caught the next bite of egg with her chopsticks, failing to keep up her surly expression while chewing. “Also because we’re having dinner with Fukube tonight, and it’s going to be awkward enough once he realizes that he’s already talked to you once.”

Hasegawa nodded, letting out a giggle. “Aw, come on, I think it’ll be more exciting that way! Though I’m glad you forgave me, Akiko-chan. It’d sure suck if we never made up and one of us tragically died in a disaster soon after, aru!”

Akiko grimaced like she was fighting off a headache. “Do you always gotta let those movie scenarios get into your head? I swear, you’re unstoppable whenever the newest conspiracy theories pop up…”

“The end of the world is gonna happen one of these days! We’re practically asking for it by not making bigger strides against climate change.” Noticing that she’d risen to her knees in the process of her ramblings, Hasegawa flopped back down to a sit. “But even if we did end up in a disaster, I’m sure you’d come and save me, Akiko-chan.”

“Yeah, I’d come and save you for your food,” Akiko said, maintaining a perfect deadpan. Hasegawa laughed again, trying not to snort her drink through her nose. Having effectively finished off her first round, Akiko went about serving herself seconds. “For real, though. Can you try not to make things too awkward with Fukube? I mean, yeah, he’s a little shit, but if you make him too worried the whole evening’s gonna be shot.”

Hasegawa raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like there’s something you’re hiding from him. Worried I’ll go out and spill your dirty little secrets.” Akiko grunted around her chopsticks, and Hasegawa felt the teasing smile slip off her face. “Akiko-chan. Did you really not tell him?”

Akiko raised her head, eyes narrowed. Not in a playful show of seriousness, but with the rumble of frustration lingering in her expression. “I fail to see how that happens to be any of his business.”

“Well, I mean, you’re dating, right? So I’d say that _you_ kind of qualify as his business.” Akiko wasn’t buying it, draining the rest of her soup bowl in one long slurp. Hasegawa put down her chopsticks and sighed. “I mean, I’m not saying that he needs to know your whole life story when you’ve only known each other a few months. But I just figured that with the other stuff going on that you were talking to me about, it might have come up.”

Not just about Akiko’s love life, but the others around her.

Mukui Shinji.

Tanae Jun.

“I mean, you’re free to tell him whatever you want,” Hasegawa continued, not bothering to consider her words to make sure they wouldn’t push the wrong buttons. With Akiko’s short fuse, it wouldn’t have mattered anyways—and even if it did, that sort of thing wasn’t Hasegawa’s style. “I just think it’s important. But, if you really haven’t said anything, I should at least know so I don’t mess anything up too bad.”

Akiko huffed, not bothering pause in eating, though she had slowed down her intake enough to talk. “It’s not as important as you think it is. I’ve already moved on from that stuff.” Hasegawa held back her frown and chose not to comment. Even going that far wasn’t a landmine she was quite willing to step on. “I really don’t wanna bring any of that up tonight, so will you let it be, Jing-Hua? Besides, you and Fukube are both nibshits. I’m sure you’ll find something as common ground in there.”

Hasegawa swallowed her mouthful of rice so she could grin freely. “Does that mean Fukube-kun’s gonna have new embarrassing stories about you to add to my repertoire, aru?”

“That. That’s exactly what I’m talking about right there.” Hasegawa beamed at the praise, and Akiko went back to her tried and true tactic of consuming everything in her immediate vicinity. Within a few moments she’d gone through her seconds and finished with a satisfied burp before gathering her dishes to take to the sink. “Thanks for the meal, Jing Hua.”

“Naturally!”

“Now try not to make too much of a ruckus today. I have to finish up some homework.”

“Not fair, Akiko-chan,” Hasegawa said, raising her voice so it would carry to the kitchen. “You say that like I don’t have my own homework to go and take care of, aru!”

Akiko’s snort of laughter was more than audible, even with the distance between them. “Like that’s ever gone and stopped you before!”

Hasegawa pouted and took a fresh bite of fish. “_Meanie_.”

* * *

Fukube supposed that meeting your girlfriend’s best friend wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it was pretty damn high up there—right with the math homework he was still stuck on even with Mukui’s help.

Suzuki had suggested a conveyor belt sushi place that had relatively cheap prices, and apparently Hasegawa had approved the call, leaving Fukube to be the one to go grab their table before the place filled up with the dinner rush. Or, rather, he’d unintentionally volunteered himself for that position when his nerves had gotten the better of him and he’d arrived a good twenty minutes before their meeting time. The staff had been understanding enough and guided him to an open booth and provided a glass of soda. Other patrons talked amongst themselves, their words occasionally broken up by the jingle of the ordering screens displaying a small cartoon once so many plates had entered the slot. Fukube was pretty sure they’d walk out with several of the gacha prices in tow, given Suzuki’s appetite.

_Suzuki-san, though._

Given that he near prided himself on how he could stay relaxed in a wide variety of situations, Fukube wasn’t sure why he was so worked up over the idea. Maybe it was because he’d never done something like try to impress his girlfriend’s friends (never mind the fact that he hadn’t had a girlfriend before, thanks to his own stupidity). Maybe it was because he had no idea how to behave.

Maybe it was because it was real.

_I’ve gone so long acting like everything’s a joke. Am I supposed to take this seriously? Suzuki-san will definitely notice if I fake it, but would she really get mad in front of her friend? I mean, if Hasegawa-san’s her best friend, then I bet she knows just how Suzuki-san is. Gah, this is why I hate trying to make conclusions; I suck at it!_

“Fu~ku~be~-_kun_~!” a voice sang as someone plopped themselves down into the seat across from him. “Funny seeing you again. Come here often, aru?” Detangling himself from his thoughts, Fukube gaped at the girl sitting across from him. She was flashing a wink and a peace sign, barely containing a snicker.

She was also, without a doubt, the girl who’d bothered him outside of the student success center two days ago.

“Knock it off, Jing Hua,” came Suzuki’s voice as she strolled towards the table. She aimed a kick at the bottom of the booth the other girl was sitting at, the resulting thud sending a deep vibration through the air. “I’m pretty sure I exclusively told you to calm the fuck down tonight.” While her friend was dressed up a fashionably as before, Suzuki hadn’t budged at all from her usual spats and baggy track jacket combo. She dropped down into the booth and stretched her legs out. “Hey, Fukube.”

“Hey,” Fukube answered, trying not to sound nervous. Suzuki wasn’t the overly affectionate type in any way, but having her sit close was kind of nerve-wracking—or maybe it was because of Hasegawa watching them from the other side of the table with a smile and a hint of mischief in her eyes. Fukube ducked his head in a short bow. “It’s nice to meet you, Hasegawa-san.” _You know, properly and not just in some weird one-off encounter._

Hasegawa giggled, as if knowing what he was thinking. “I’m excited to get to know the boy who actually corralled Akiko-chan here into a relationship, aru. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Fukube let out a chuckle of his own, somewhat caught up in Hasegawa’s pace. “Well, I don’t know if I can take the credit for that. It’s more like Suzuki-san was the one that corralled me…” Trailing off as he remembered just who was sitting next to him, Fukube glanced to Suzuki. Her expression was serious, but then he realized she was staring down the passing sushi, looking very much like a predator. “Um, is there something you want me to grab for you if it passes by?”

“Otoroo,” she said, without any remorse. Fukube felt glad his parents had just sent him some money. Suzuki hadn’t said anything about making him foot the bill, but he mentally prepared himself, just in case. “I think I’ll get some ramen, too, while I’m at it.”

“Doesn’t watching Akiko-chan’s appetite get you all fired up?” Hasegawa asked, snatching a plate of tamago for herself. Fukube waited for the next round of otoroo to loop around and passed both plates to Suzuki before taking some edamame as an appetizer. “I feel like I could eat like twenty plates, aru!”

Suzuki grunted between bites of her tuna. “If you do that, you’ll make yourself sick, Jing Hua.”

“But it would be worth it, right?”

“I dunno about that,” Fukube said, watching as Suzuki polished off her first servings with ease. He hadn’t even started on his first bean pod yet “More otoroo? Something else?”

Unsurprisingly, Suzuki spent most of the time picking out her order and chowing down once Fukube passed it to her. That gave him and Hasegawa plenty of time to fall into small talk, which wasn’t as awkward as Fukube feared it would be. He learned that she was studying business management through an online program, aiming to open up her own clothing store someday, while Fukube had to admit that he was still undecided for his own degree. From there, the conversation had shifted from the present to other miscellaneous topics, and Suzuki excused herself from her sushi massacre to head to the restroom.

“Heheh, I really am happy that Akiko-chan found someone else to be around, aru,” Hasegawa said, playing with her straw. “She’s never been really good at interacting with other people.”

That wasn’t all too surprising to Fukube, all things considered. “You two have known each other for a while, right? Suzuki-san never said how long.”

“I’m just impressed she talked at all, but I guess she wanted to tell you since I was coming to visit.” Fukube nodded, debating if it would be worth it to squeeze in one more plate of sushi or if it was time to give it up for broke. “But, yeah, we’ve known each other for ages, aru. Met in elementary school.”

Fukube couldn’t help but think of his own encounter with Houtarou, which seemed like an unfair number of years ago. Houtarou hadn’t changed much since then, save for the transition between high school in college. Imagining a Suzuki in the single digits was a bit trickier. “What was she even like back then?”

“She still had that massive appetite. And she was always good at the athletic stuff—ran circles around the rest of us in gym class.” Having pinched her straw out of shape, Hasegawa let it go with a sigh. “She used to be a lot quieter, though, if you can believe that. Akiko-chan was super shy.”

“No kidding, huh?” Dismissive and a bit antisocial, sure, but he couldn’t picture her being shy. Then again, Mayaka had been a bit like that, too. It was funny how people could change as they got older.

“For real, aru. I used to have to talk for her all the time. It took her until like middle school to get over it. But still…” With her normal energetic disposition somewhat faded, Hasegawa looked almost wistful as she thought things over. “Akiko-chan’s still very important to me. So you better take care of her, okay?”

Fukube blinked at the request. “I don’t know if she really needs me to take care of her,” he said, thinking of how she handled herself in aggressive outbursts. Heck, she’d be probably take it as an insult if Fukube tried to defend her or anything. “But even if I can’t keep her safe, I’ll still do my best. To be there.”

_That you’re around. Is that so hard?_

Fukube honestly didn’t know the answer to that question yet, but he was trying, if nothing else. Hasegawa looked content enough with his response, so he’d take it. “Goodness,” she said, sounding like she was holding back a snicker, “Akiko-chan sure knows how to win ‘em over, doesn’t she, aru? You’re more into her than I thought.”

Fukube added his own nervous chuckle to the mix. “I don’t know if I’d honestly put it that way, Hasegawa-san.”

“Eh, why not? I thought you were a guy who doesn’t like to be obsessed with things.” _Sheesh, why’d Suzuki-san have to go and say all of that?_ Hasegawa cupped her hands together with a sly looking smile. “And Akiko-chan’s the type of person who doesn’t like being obsessed over, so it works out, aru. But if you’re committing yourself to her, I’d say that’s a pretty big step, hm?”

“I guess if you look at it like that.” Fukube leaned back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling. A group a couple of tables over burst out into laughter, the sound blending in with the faint music playing from the restaurant’s speakers. “But if you know that about me, Hasegawa-san, you probably also know that I’m not the best at drawing conclusions, so who can say?”

Hasegawa’s sly smile seemed to become even more mischievous. “Akiko-chan’s gonna get mad if she hears you still talking like you’re a database, aru. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” She winked, her eyeshadow sparkling. “But you don’t gotta be so formal with me. Jing Hua is fine. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you still call Akiko-chan by her family name, aru! You gotta be a little more forward than—Ah!”

“No one asked for your meddling,” Suzuki said, pulling back her fist from where she’d gently(?) bopped Hasegawa on the head. “Whether we wanna use each other’s given names is our business.” Hasegawa rubbed her head with a pitiful expression, but Fukube could tell it was mostly for show, so she seemed fine. Suzuki shuffled back to her spot but didn’t sit down, instead leaning over Fukube to reach the touchscreen for custom orders. “I’m getting dessert. Either of you want anything.”

“_Pass,_” Fukube and Hasegawa said in surprising unison. Fukube, for one, felt like his stomach was about to burst. Suzuki simply shrugged and pressed the buttons, and he faintly wondered if he felt so overwhelmed because of how close Suzuki was.

Hasegawa’s amused smirk at him once Suzuki sat back down didn’t make him feel any better.

* * *

Suzuki wasn’t exactly sure how she’d been convinced to bring Fukube back to her apartment. Probably because Jing Hua was a little shit.

Considering it was a cheap apartment for students attending the nearby university, it wasn’t much to look at. Hell, it only really had enough space for the three of them once they propped the table up against the wall. Being a completely unplanned endeavor, there wasn’t anything special, save for Jing Hua’s gathering of snacks and drinks (water for Suzuki, soda for the others). Not that Suzuki would have bothered to plan anything special if she had known Fukube was coming over.

_That’s far too much of a pain in the ass. Besides, he’s too terrified just being here to even appreciate it if I _had_ done something nice._

Sure enough, Fukube was sitting on the cushion that Jing Hua had all but guided him to, an open can of soda clutched between his hands. He hadn’t so much as touched the assortment of chips and candy Jing Hua had spread out for the group, and his usual smile was strained by attempting to contain his nervousness with mixed results.

_You could’ve said no,_ Suzuki thought. _I know Jing Hua’s an over the top person, but it is possible to escape from her._ Not that that information would do Fukube any good now. So Suzuki just sighed and reached over to smack him on the back. “If you’re gonna throw up, at least try to make it to the bathroom first, okay?”

“Oh, are you the squeamish type, Fukube-kun?” Jing Hua asked, looking over her shoulder from where she was setting up the television. It was Suzuki’s, but she tended not to use it, and the only reason she’d kept the damn thing was because Jing Hua insisted they had a way to watch movies together when they visited. “Should I pick a movie with less death in it? I mean, most of these are generic mass destruction, but they can get pretty messy, aru.”

“I’m not going to throw up!” Fukube said, though the pitch of his voice shooting upwards didn’t do him any favors. “Don’t worry about me, Hasegawa-san. I can handle movies and stuff just fine.”

Jing Hua bobbed her head in a nod and turned back to the TV set. “Roger that, aru! If you get freaked out, though, you’re sitting next to Akiko-chan, so take advantage of it.”

Suzuki snorted. “Do you ever calm down for like five seconds?” she asked, leaning back on her palms, the material of her track jacket cushioning her hands against the floor. Too frozen in place to look anywhere other than the television, Fukube’s neck had flushed a bright red. “Fukube, you do know she’s only picking on your because you’re such an easy target, right?”

“Says the one who was just teasing me about throwing up!”

Twisting open a bottle of water, Suzuki shrugged. “You’re the one who looks sick just sitting there. Do you really think we’re gonna bite or something?” The look on Fukube’s face wasn’t exactly one of denial. Suzuki picked up a pack of chips and chucked it at his chest. “Holy shit, Fukube, deep breaths. How is this any different from when you pestered me at school all the time?”

_Because one on one at school is totally different than hanging out at your partner’s home, even if there’s a third body around. You’re probably the one who’s not reacting enough._

Suzuki drowned the thoughts by drinking her bottle of water whole, then crushing the plastic in her fist.

“It’s showtime, aru,” Jing Hua said, finishing hooking up her computer to the television and pressing play on whatever disaster movie she’d chosen from her vast collection. As she plopped down onto her own cushion, she cracked open a can of soda. “Aw, I totally forgot to grab popcorn.”

“Yeah, but you remembered to grab literally everything else under the sun,” Suzuki said, eyeing the pile of snacks that had materialized on her floor. “You better do your best to eat all of this junk.”

Jing Hua threw up her hand in a lopsided salute. “Leave it to me and Fukube-kun, Akiko-chan.”

“Huh, me, too?” Fukube asked, slipping out of his stupor.

“Of course, aru. Why do you think I bought so much stuff? Akiko-chan doesn’t really eat stuff like this, so it’s up to me and you to clear out as much as possible. I believe in you, don’t worry!”

Suzuki let the two of them have at it as she found a pillow to cushion her back against the wall before setting about staring at the television screen, which was displaying a rather dramatically shot opening sequence with all sorts of city aerial shots. Knowing Jing Hua’s tastes, the buildings would be a wreck by the time the film was done. Suzuki’s prediction turned out to be right as the movie went on, the cause happening to be some kaiju or another. Even with Jing Hua pointing out things as she usually did and Fukube steadily getting into it, Suzuki felt some sort of strange ease, sitting in a room on a Saturday night with the people she cared about.

She hadn’t even realized she’d dozed off until she blearily woke up. Since there was a blanket under her and a futon over her, the others must’ve moved her. The overhead lights were off, but the TV was still shining in the dark, though its volume was low, the screams of the people on screen no more than a whine. Jing Hua was doubtless there, and her quiet whispers suggested that Fukube hadn’t left yet, either.

Suzuki shut her eyes again and tried to let sleep retake her, since waking up on and off was never good for anyone. And though her body seemed at ease, she was still alert enough to pick out the hushed words of the two other people in the room talking in the dark, her own name cropping up more than once.

_Akiko-chan_ this.

_Suzuki-san_ that.

_High school._

An icy, dark feeling that had never fully left reached out and clutched onto Suzuki’s heart as she put more of their words together, though it should have been obvious from the start. Her heartbeat sent a steady thudding through her ears. Self-loathing welled back up from the box she’d tried so hard to trap it in.

_Fuck this._

She felt grateful that she’d dozed off while still dressed. It made it that much easier for her rush out the door, Jing Hua and Fukube noticing far too late for their voices to reach her.

* * *

It was well past Mukui’s usual bedtime, but he felt wide awake.

At Hiraoka’s bequest, he’d agreed to come over for the next marathoning session of the anime they’d started over Golden Week. And though Mukui had been hesitant at first, he’d found that those feelings had slipped away only a few episodes in. Somehow, he didn’t feel like he was a nuisance or that Hiraoka was taking pity on him, even when Tanae was there, too.

Mukui was in such a good mood that he was even humming the show’s theme song as he meandered through the aisles of the convenience store to meet back up with the others. Hiraoka and Tanae had already finished their portion of the snack run (and with Tanae’s wallet, if his somewhat downtrodden expression was any indication), and Mukui waved to them as he went to check out. Though it was late at night, the cashier was on top of things, and the whole process was done in a few minutes without any fuss.

“Okay, restocking _get_!” Hiraoka said, punctuating her sentence with a fist pump. “You all ready to head back, Hero-kun? We’re about to get to the best part of the third season.”

“You’ve been saying that about the entire show,” Tanae said under his breath.

Hiraoka nodded, her loose hair bouncing in curls formed by her usual buns. “It’s not my fault that _Yu Yu Hakusho_ is a masterpiece of shonen anime. Like, how do you even get such a great show?”

“Well, I am interested in seeing what happens next,” Mukui said, adjusting his bag on his arm. “After watching for so long, it’s kind of hard not to care about the characters.” Surprising, considering it was a fighting series.

“Right, right? After this, we totally gotta marathon _Hunter x Hunter_, too. Sure it’s not complete, and it goes on hiatus like no other, but—”

Hiraoka’s enthusiastic spiel continued, but Mukui was only half listening. Because, though it had only been for a moment, he had seen a familiar figure sprinting across the street and out of sight.

Tanae seemed to have noticed, too, since his brow was furrowed in concentration. “Oi…” he started.

Mukui finished the thought he was pretty sure was on both of their minds. “Was that Suzuki-san?”


	12. Monday, May 27

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Monday, May 27

* * *

_Suzuki’s breaths were ragged, the exhausted sound of someone who had exerted themselves from far too much effort. Her body ached, but not the familiar burn of running or working out that she occasionally enjoyed. Even so, she knew the sensation well._

_The sting of fresh cuts and bruises._

_Skirmishes were something she wasn’t a stranger to. There had been so many incidents between elementary and middle school that she’d stopped worrying about things like that anymore. It was always over something stupid. About how she wasn’t girly or about Jing Hua’s accent or how the two of them combined weren’t the types to give in when others ordered that the only way was to follow someone else’s path or face the consequences._

_No matter what, no matter how her knees had first trembled and how fear had gripped onto her heart, Suzuki had always stood her ground, come whatever may. She didn’t want to break under someone else’s insistence. Didn’t want to submit under fucking stupid ideas of superiority—they were all kids, they were all weak in comparison to the rest of society, anyway. One victory over someone else her age wouldn’t get any of the bullies over the years anywhere. And with that logic, it hadn’t been worth it to fight back, either._

_Just let them try._

_She wouldn’t break._

_She’d continue taking whatever nonsense they’d throw at her, even when it got physical—that was fine, so long as she could cover for Jing Hua, keep her one true friend out of at least _that_ component, even if the verbal jabs still stung._

_So, yes, Suzuki was well accustomed to the sensation of bruises and scrapes and blood trickling over her skin. She was used to feeling out of breath from adrenaline. She was even used to not being the only one, that there would be others with minor injuries—sometimes better than hers, sometimes worse—all of them trying to comprehend just what the hell they’d done wrong to deserve such cruel treatment._

_(The joke was that they’d done _nothing_ to deserve it, and it was just the animosity of others that made it happen.)_

_Suzuki knew the scene before her well, of people clutching their sides to support themselves against the pain or groaning and wincing or looking over themselves and trying to think of how they were ever going to explain what had happened, how they were going to keep it secret, how they were going to tidy up their uniform, how they were going to avoid making waves so they could possibly not become subjected to the same treatment again. And as much as Suzuki knew the scene before her well—_

_That day was the first time she’d been the cause of it._

_Suzuki was no longer a victim, no longer the one who would dust herself off and go home and pretend that it didn’t fucking matter. No, she’d become the aggressor. Despite all the times that she’d told herself there was nothing to gain by fighting back, even though she _could_ have, that ideal had ceased to mean anything._

_Because for all the years that had passed, the idea that it didn’t matter had been a coverup._

_She had hated being a complacent little victim, hated watching Jing Hua cry after the encounters, hated her inability to do anything to help her best friend._

_So, on that day, not too long after the start of high school, something in her had snapped—and Suzuki decided that she would fight back. Not enough to just scare off any offending bullies. Not enough to show that she wasn’t a target and that she’d retaliate for Jing Hua’s sake, too. No, she’d gone even further, shown a type of tyranny that would come to establish her as someone you didn’t mess with, because if you did, there could be dire consequences._

_No one had gotten hurt more than a few bumps and scrapes, and she hadn’t caused any serious injuries like broken bones. But she wasn’t afraid to do it if she needed to. Suzuki would no longer let herself be in the position of weakness ever again. _

_She looked over her baggy track jacket, knowing it would need a wash before the next day. It had protected her uniform from any messes at the very least. The physical exertion had worked her up to a light sheen of sweat, but Suzuki still didn’t feel warm despite the layers of clothing. She felt an intense inner chill in realization of the path that now lied before her._

_“Why the hell did I end up like this?” she asked, looking at the dirt and blood on her hands._

_In the course of one encounter, the bullied had become the bully._

Waking up from her dream, Suzuki looked around her, realizing that she was all alone, and laughed.

* * *

Monday afternoon arrived with such an unfair sense of normalcy that Hasegawa felt genuinely distressed, which was a rare occasion for her. The apartment was quiet and tidy, which should have been the perfect environment for getting some work done. It was the start of the week, after all, and that meant the next module of her online course was available. In any other set of circumstances, Hasegawa wouldn’t have had any trouble getting a head start on her assignments and wrapping up at least her readings and initial thoughts on the lessons.

Most other sets of circumstances didn’t have Akiko-chan missing for a few days.

Okay, _missing_ might have been a slightly extreme word for it. After all, Akiko was an adult, so she was free to go and do as she wanted, even if that meant not coming back to her apartment for a few days. It was just a little concerning since Hasegawa had plans to stay the week, so it was a mite bit rude (even by Akiko’s standards) to not come back when she had company over. Akiko wasn’t answering any calls or texts, either.

Hasegawa had taken up a vigil at the apartment, just so she could be there when Akiko decided to come back, and she could say with confidence that Akiko had only come back once to grab a duffel bag of some clothes and school supplies—and _that_ had only happened with Hasegawa had intentionally stepped out to stock up on groceries for the impending stake out, leaving a gap where Akiko could visit without getting caught.

_I mean, if I didn’t do that, Akiko-chan would have just roughed it on her own, and I couldn’t do that to her, but I still don’t like it!_

Pouting at her laptop screen, Hasegawa was only halfway paying attention to the characters on the screen. She’d known by looking at the syllabus that this week would be somewhat busy with assignments and preparation for the upcoming final project, but she figured it would be manageable enough even while taking a trip. But worry for Akiko wormed its way into her thoughts, turning her gaze into a blank sort of stare. Hounding Akiko-chan wouldn’t gain any results, but _still—_

Hasegawa’s phone started letting out the sound of Godzilla’s roar (because why would she ever have a normal ringtone?), and she snatched it up without so much as looking at the caller ID.

“Heyo,” she said, trying to keep her voice light so as not to let any of her worry show, “Hasegawa Jing Hua speaking, aru!”

“Hasegawa-san,” Fukube said on the other side, which basically made her display of cheer worthless. Hasegawa wasn’t the type to hide her true intentions much, but she certainly didn’t have enough practice to match up with someone like Fukube, who had tons more experience in that regard. “Sorry for calling without warning. I just thought I’d let you know that I saw Suzuki-san today.”

Hasegawa’s breath rushed out of her along with all sorts of tension that had wormed its way into her heart. It wasn’t a full recovery, but it was nice to know Akiko was still alive and in one piece—though, considering her physical capabilities, maybe that was a silly concern in the first place. “That’s good, since she hasn’t stopped by since before.” Hasegawa closed her computer and picked up a pen to fidget with. “I take it that she gave you the super cold shoulder treatment?”

Fukube’s silence was enough for her to imagine his grimace. “To be honest, I didn’t even bother to get close to her. I could tell she was in a super bad mood, so I figured it was safer to stay out of her immediate eyeshot.” _Akiko-chan, Fukube-kun totally gets you. Look how lucky you are._ “I don’t know why I’m so impressed at how long she can hold a grudge for…”

“Well, we did poke at one of her sore spots, that’s for sure, aru.” Not even paying attention to her strokes, Hasegawa started to sketch aimlessly on the next blank page of her notebook. “Akiko-chan doesn’t like thinking about high school at all. She probably thought I was spilling out her dirty secrets even though she told me not to.” She sighed, considering that Akiko was only _half_ right. “But you’re right in that trying to approach her won’t do any good. She’s in that mental space where her first reaction is to push away anyone who tries.”

Hasegawa had seen _that_ Akiko plenty of times during high school, even at the end of the three years, when Akiko had started to improve a bit. But she was still someone who didn’t know how to handle her negative emotions in any other ways besides retreating or lashing out.

“I mean, I kinda get that, but still,” Fukube said. Just in the same way that he could probably pick up on Hasegawa’s worry, she could easily hear the tiredness hidden beneath his casual tone. Fukube sighed. “Hm, I guess this is what I get for going and—”

“Nope,” Hasegawa said before he could even finish the sentence.

“Hasegawa-san?”

“I said ‘nope,’ Fukube-kun,” she repeated for him, dead serious. “I mean, yeah, sure, maybe you shouldn’t be such a nibshit, aru. But Akiko-chan’s the one who didn’t talk with you in the first place. And, even more than that, _I’m_ the one who decided to go behind her back and talk to you about it.” Even if Hasegawa thought it was for the best that Akiko didn’t hide things from someone she liked enough to ask out as a partner, it was still stepping over the line to go and bring up high school stories when they were such a sore spot. Of course, that was why Hasegawa had crossed that line in the first place. Though Fukube couldn’t see it, Hasegawa smiled. “So at the end of the day, Akiko-chan can be as pissed off at me as she wants. But we’re best friends, and this isn’t going to be enough to break the bond we have. So don’t you go and worry, Fukube-kun. I’ll take the heat, and you can get all the benefits of making up with Akiko-chan, aru!”

Fukube let out a nervous laugh, but there was still a faint hint of hope in the sound. “I don’t know if Suzuki-san’s definition of making up is going to be as nice as you’re making it out to be, Hasegawa-san.” She just shrugged, taking a moment to look at the aimless pattern she’d decorated nearly half the page with, a mix of flowers and stars and geometric shapes. “But, so long as you’re offering, I’ll go ahead and take whatever benefits you say that there might be. Thanks.”

“Nah, Fukube-kun,” Hasegawa said, “the thanks is all gonna go to you.”

_Just this time,_ she thought, _let me be the one to set you free, Akiko-chan._

* * *

Hiraoka was the type to have her nose stuck into everything that was going on around campus (_how_ she managed to do it whenever she had to spend at least a dozen hours a week keeping up with anime and manga was a goddamn mystery), so naturally it reached Tanae’s ears that Suzuki was in a piss poor mood lately. Enough that she was avoiding Fukube out of something outside of general annoyance.

Mukui had been worried enough about the wellbeing of someone he considered an acquaintance, while Hiraoka kept trying to find the appropriate shojo manga with enough levels of _drama_ to compare the situation to.

Tanae knew that if he valued his wellbeing, he would stay the hell out of the mess and _not_ provoke the angered beast that was Suzuki Akiko.

_So then why the hell am I here?_

Unlike a lot of the other buildings on campus, the student gym spared nothing in the realm of air conditioning, the AC system doing its damnedest to combat the heat worked up by all the people gathered inside, running on treadmills and lifting weights and counting reps of sit ups. Tanae was still at the entrance, so it would have been so, _so_ easy to walk out the door, head back home and start working on looking over the materials for his literature test that he had coming up.

Instead, he shifted his bag over his shoulders and headed towards Suzuki.

She had a corner of the gym to herself, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks at a punching bag that shook with every single strike, emitting harsh smacks of flesh against plastic through the air. The sight of her narrowed eyes and fierce scowl was enough to send a shiver down Tanae’s spine, even if he wasn’t a target. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, he found an out of the way section of the wall to lean against and _watched_.

Tanae may have had first hand experience as someone on the receiving end of Suzuki’s brunt force assault, but it was a different matter altogether to watch her from the sidelines. Suzuki wasn’t someone that operated off of technical movements and forms when she fought, instead throwing whatever she could into the opponent in an overwhelming assault. Even so, it wasn’t like her movements were entirely rough—just not following any sort of pattern that could be called a style. She was definitely experienced in fighting, though, a sort of unparalleled beat down that only certain people learned to use, wanting to assert themselves.

_People like us, huh?_

Several minutes passed, with Suzuki putting off such an intense aura that no one else dared to come near her, save for Tanae, observing on the sidelines and trying to ignore the memories of the bruise on his face from a month ago. He didn’t know why he hadn’t recognized where she’d learned to fight back then, though the threat of a concussion had probably been responsible. He was on the verge of slipping back onto his memories when Suzuki stomped over to him, looming above and looking as intimidating as ever.

“Did Fukube send you?” she asked, voice an unrestrained growl.

Tanae kept his eyebrow from raising, knowing that would probably be an exceptionally stupid response, even in comparison to what he was already doing. “Nope.”

Suzuki seemed to recognize that he had answered honestly, though that didn’t stop the disinterested snort from slipping out of her nose. “Doesn’t matter. You can still leave anyways.”

“Last I checked, this was still public property for students.” Ah, damn, he must’ve really had a death wish. He didn’t even get the opportunity to apologize to Kouna first. Deciding to make himself somewhat less of an easy target, Tanae pushed himself off the wall the stand up straight, though his several centimeters over Suzuki could only alleviate his nerves so much. “I can be here if I wanna be.”

“Fine, you can be here if you want. But I’m seriously not in the mood to put up with any of your bullshit, so let’s skip over that part.” She went to turn on her heel, but not before Tanae caught the dangerous glint lingering in her eyes. There was something violent in them, but also something else.

Something Tanae wouldn’t have been able to recognize if it weren’t for the fact that he’d made that exact look before.

“What are you hurting over, Suzuki?” he asked, continuing on his streak of being _a complete idiot_. The fact that he was mimicking Kouna’s words only made him feel even more out of his element than usual. Since when the hell did Tanae Jun try to talk things out with people? _Apparently around the same time that I started caring about Suzuki’s feelings. _She stopped, the tension visible in her taut muscles. “The kind of steam you’re trying to blow off won’t go anywhere while you’re beating up some inanimate object.”

She deigned to glance back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed into slits, looking like a tiger poised to strike at its poor, unsuspecting prey any moment. “Are you volunteering to serve as a substitute, Tanae? I thought you would’ve learned your lesson last time.” There was no mistaking it: one wrong move and Tanae was going to end up crumpled on the ground behind a school building again. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and mind your own fucking business?”

_Yeah, seriously, I’m asking that myself, here._

_Why do I give a shit what happens to you?_

Suzuki was walking back towards the punching bag again, looking like she just might rip the thing in half with her next round of blows. She was headed into a spiral of numbing herself with violence—if that was what she wanted, it was her call. Tanae easily could have turned tail and let her be, no harm involved.

_Why am I even bothering to head into such a dangerous situation?_

_Because, Jun-chan,_ Kouna’s voice said in his memory, _you can’t expect to change if you don’t imagine what you want to be like first._

_Yeah, yeah,_ Tanae thought, flexing his fingers in and out of fists, trying to brace himself for what was coming next, _I hear you, Senpai._ And then, tossing aside self-preservation, he squared his shoulders, drew in a breath, and said, “You’re just doing the same shit that I did, Suzuki.” Maybe, just maybe, if he gave her a concrete target for her anger, she would snap enough to realize how she was acting. “Puffing yourself out, trying to take the anger out on someone else so it doesn’t hurt you anymore, trying to be the one at the top of the totem pole so no one else will even think that you could be weak, even though you are. Oh, yeah, you put on a good show, Suzuki, and you’re tough as hell—I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t change a damn thing.”

Suzuki’s foot collided with the floor in a massive stomp, her ponytail cut through the air as she ripped around, and there was hardly anything that sounded like human speech in the way that she snarled, “_Piss off,_” but those were pretty much all secondary concerns, because the next moment their corner of the gym turned into an all-out brawl.

Tanae wasn’t full enough of himself to say that the only reason Suzuki had been able to knock him out cold before was because he’d underestimated her. Sure, he’d been stupid enough to think that someone like her didn’t _look_ like the type to get into a fight, but that was only part of it. If they had attended the same high school, it would be no contest that Suzuki would have ended up on top. She was just that stupid tough.

A month between hadn’t changed that. It didn’t help that Suzuki probably kept up her workouts the whole time while Tanae had let himself be normal and watch stupid anime with Kouna and Mukui. But he was still a fighter, too, and old instincts didn’t burn out _that_ quickly, so, thanks to knowing what to expect, he could put up a decent struggle. Most of what he was doing was attempting to prevent Suzuki from being able to cause any serious damage more than hurting her in return, but that didn’t stop him from getting a few hits in, spouting off clichés about owning up to herself and asking if _this_ was really what she wanted to be that he’d heard from Kouna twenty-thousand times, Suzuki growling insults back at him in turn.

Apparently, a fight breaking out in the middle of the gym was enough for people to get over Suzuki’s intimidating as fuck aura, and soon there were extra people clustering around, some of them confident enough in their body strength to actually try to pull them apart, and Suzuki still had her teeth bared in a ferocious sneer before recognizing she wasn’t going to get anywhere as someone shouted “Hey, break it up!”

Suzuki clicked her tongue, easily shook off the three weightlifters who easily looked twice her weight apiece, and gave Tanae one last withering look before deciding that going for round two wasn’t likely going to be worth it. “Don’t touch me,” she said, spitting out the words. No one bothered to fight her on that order. “I’m fucking leaving.”

“Hey, you can’t just—”

“Let her go,” Tanae said, impressed that his jaw didn’t hurt; she’d gotten in a pretty good swipe there. “I provoked her into it. Just let it be.”

“Dude, I _saw_ her jump you,” someone else said—Tanae vaguely recognized the guy from their shared math course. “Are you even okay? She was pretty fierce.”

Tanae rolled his shoulders and looked himself over. “I’m fine; don’t worry.” Sure, he was a bit scuffed up, and there were already faint impressions of bruises forming on the exposed skin of his legs. Still better shape than the last fight they’d gotten in. He made his way back to the wall and picked up his bag, trying to ignore the faint pang of pain in his side. “I’m gonna just head home and rest. Trust me, this is nothing.”

His classmate only looked half convinced but didn’t get in Tanae’s way. “If you insist, man…”

Giving what he thought looked like a reassuring wave, Tanae headed for the exit, making it out the door in a few minutes. From the door, he could still see a whole stretch of campus laid out before him, the track, the dining hall, the classroom buildings on the opposite sides of the hills. And, not even a speck yet, the shape of Suzuki as she stopped her way towards the train station.

Tanae seriously should have left it alone.

Instead, he followed her.

* * *

Fukube felt like an idiot for forgetting how good of a friend Houtarou was during the few awkward months between his declaration to attend college with no explanation and their conversation at the inn during Golden Week. The fact that Houtarou was willing to but up with Fukube’s nervous fretting late at night (sacrificing his precious sleep at that) was just another testament to the guy’s loyalty.

Because, out of all the stupid emotions out there, Fukube _was_ worried. Only vaguely for Suzuki’s safety, since she could take better care of herself away from home than he could, but more for the tentative relationship they had formed. She had forced him open, made him feel comfortable with the concept, making it something other than obsession, something he felt like he could handle.

_Be there. Is that so hard?_

_It’s a bit hard to be there when you’ve run off, Suzuki-san._

Houtarou came back into the room from a restroom break and flopped down to sit across from Fukube from the floor. His expression was the same unimpressed look as usual, one that most people wouldn’t have been able to tell masked an intelligent and rapid-thinking brain whenever he chose to put the effort in. “You know that fussing won’t get you anywhere, right?” Houtarou asked.

After all the years they’d spent together, it hadn’t been until the Valentine’s Day of their first year of high school that Fukube had allowed himself to take down the cheerful disposition he put on around others—and it only rarely came down since then. Fukube let that night be one of those times. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I mean, you’d probably be all worked up if something happened to Chitanda-san, wouldn’t you?” Houtarou’s mouth turned more into a frown than usual. “Sorry, that was unfair to say.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just don’t think that Chitanda-san and Suzuki-san are very much alike.” The fact that Houtarou said it in his usual unaffected voice only made it funnier, and Fukube couldn’t help but splutter out a laugh. “But I do get your point. I’d worry, for sure.”

Fukube hummed a bit and nodded, fingers aimlessly toying with the hem of his short. Two nights ago, had he really been at Suzuki’s place, watching her sleeping face and thinking about how nice it was to see a new side of her? “Yeah, you’re right there. Maybe that was an unfair comparison.” Even worse than the first one he’d made the mistake of considering. Suzuki was her own entity, one he wanted to know more about, and there was the possibility that his chance to do that was gone. “It’s silly, but I really don’t like the idea that she might not want anything to do with—”

Sitting on top of his bag, Fukube’s phone lit up as it buzzed the pattern for a call.

Houtarou didn’t even complain when Fukube flung himself across the room to answer it.

It wasn’t Suzuki, and it wasn’t Hasegawa, either. It wasn’t even a number in his contacts. But it was a sequence of numbers that seemed vaguely familiar, if only a little bit, so Fukube prepared himself for the possibility of a spam call and answered.

“Hello?”

“Fukube?” Tanae’s voice said from the other line, and the fragments of memory clicked into place. Fukube had seen the other guy’s number when looking up Suzuki’s, what felt like a lifetime ago. “Sorry, I got your number from Kouna. I figured I’d let you know that I know where Suzuki’s staying.”

Several emotions set off a painful clench in Fukube’s chest, but he tried to think it through. After Fukube had given a brief explanation for why he wasn’t with Suzuki for lunch earlier, Hiraoka must’ve mentioned it to Tanae. How that connected to Tanae suddenly finding her, Fukube couldn’t puzzle that one together with limited context, but that didn’t matter.

_Suzuki-san is—_

“Where?” Fukube breathed, then shook his head to get a hold of himself. “Please, where is she?”

“Looks like she’s staying at some manga café,” Tanae said, not offering anything else as an explanation. I saw her go in with takeout, and she hasn’t come out, so I’m guessing she’s staying here.” He paused a moment. “I’ll send you the address. Want me to stay here in case she moves?”

“No. No, that’s fine.” Were his hands shaking? Fukube didn’t want to know the answer. “Just…just, if you could send me the address, that would be enough. I’ll take care of it.” _Look at you, talking big. _“Thank you, Tanae-san. Thanks.”

Tanae made a sound that seemed incredibly uncomfortable with the notion of receiving thanks. “Don’t mention it. Just come handle this mess before it gets worse.” There was a pause, then he added, “If anyone can knock some sense into her, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be you.”

And before Fukube could respond, Tanae hung up.

It took Fukube far too many moments to bring the phone down from his ear, and it shortly after buzzed with the notification of Tanae’s message, an unfamiliar address lighting up the screen.

Houtarou raised his head from the opposite end of the room. “You got a lead?”

“Yeah.” It was a bit far away from campus (which was probably why Suzuki had picked it out), but it was a lead.

“You gonna go, then?”

Fukube chuckled. “We’re in trouble when you’re the one telling me to do something, Houtarou.” He made himself stand up, opening the message to put the address into his navigator. “But, yeah, I’m gonna go. Though I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the trains this late.” Most of the lines had already closed down.

Houtarou grunted, pulling himself to his feet. “You can take my bike. Just don’t lose it.”

Yeah, Houtarou was a pretty amazing friend.

Fukube gave his thanks, took a few moments picking at Houtarou for bringing his country bike into the city to hide his own nervousness, then set off, trying not to crash while balancing his phone against the handlebars of the bike. Thankfully, a lot of crowds had thinned out for the night, so he didn’t take too much of a mess, though the ride still took a while before he made it to the address Tanae had indicated. Based on the sign, the manga café was on the third floor, and he fumbled with Houtarou’s bike lock before heading inside.

Somehow, having biked the whole way over had pushed most of the nerves out of his system. Since he’d come so far, it would be lame to chicken out. So he made himself go inside, but on his best charming face when telling the receptionist he was meeting up with his friend Suzuki, and got the booth number with surprisingly little trouble.

He didn’t even hesitate to knock on the door, but the feelings of trepidation came roaring back once Suzuki opened the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

And, late as it was, the world reached midnight.


	13. Tuesday, May 28

**Image Training**

By: Aviantei

Tuesday, May 28

* * *

Staring at Suzuki, Fukube’s heart pounded against his ribs hard enough to almost hurt. It had only just caught up to him how ridiculous it was that he’d found her despite her obvious efforts to be left alone, that his arrival might be a transgression across her boundaries, even more than digging up her contact information on a whim at the beginning of the school year, than uncovering the fact that she’d been bullied all the way through middle school.

Than the things he’d learned beyond that.

Suzuki was tired. He could tell, not just by the dark circles of worry under her eyes or that it must’ve been way past her usual bedtime, but also by how long she stared him down, waiting for a response to her question. She could have closed the door in his face, called for the café’s staff if he pushed the issue, dragged him out of the place on her own. There were so many ways she could have gotten rid of him, but she didn’t seem to have the mental strength to go through with any of them.

A thousand joking responses danced on his tongue, the old habit flaring up with a vengeance. “I’m here to see you,” he said, leaving all the other possible answers behind. He was there to tell the truth, not play games. Not when she was so done. “I’m supposed to be there, remember? I figured it wasn’t so hard.”

It wasn’t like her hard exterior crumbled at the words. Suzuki Akiko didn’t falter so easily. But Fukube could see the flash of resignation in her eyes, the look of a person who wasn’t going to do something as hypocritical as argue against words they’d said themselves. Suzuki took a graceful step back and turned on her heel. “Might as well come in instead of standing in the hall like an idiot.”

Fukube wasn’t about to argue the outcome of his gamble and followed her inside, shutting the door after him. It was a rather small booth with two benches of cushioned seating pressed against opposing walls with a small table crammed in the middle. Suzuki had kept the pale blinds drawn over the window. There was enough room for them both to sit, but it would be a tight squeeze for anyone to stay there overnight, though not impossible. Despite the place being a manga café, the only books in sight were Suzuki’s school texts and notes peaking out of her backpack propped against the table leg.

Suzuki shimmied into the seat opposite of Fukube and brushed a stray section of her ponytail away from her face before crossing her arms. “So,” she said, slowly, as if she’d forgotten what words were supposed to sound like, “you decided to be here.” _For me,_ went unspoken—or maybe that was Fukube being hopeful about the faint lingering pause at the end of her sentence.

“Yes.” He was glad the space was so contained; even his quiet voice sounded normal. “That’s what I decided to do.”

“Do you think you’re being noble?” She sounded so worn out that the scorn didn’t even come across. “Do you think that by pretending what I did in high school didn’t happen that you’re being good, someone who’s willing to forgive major fuckups like that?” With a dismissive flick of her wrist, Suzuki waved her hand across the room. “I can tell you right now that it doesn’t work like that.”

“And I can tell you right now that that’s not what I’m doing.” Fukube felt his lips curl up into the faintest impression of a smile, and it wasn’t even faked. Suzuki’s glare didn’t intensify, so she didn’t think he was mocking her, at least. “What you went through in high school—what you _did_ happened.” The vague words didn’t help the atmosphere sparking between them. “Suzuki-san, you became a bully.”

Oddly enough, it was Suzuki that put on the mocking smile, Suzuki who slipped her true feelings behind a fragile mask. “Yeah, I did.” She spread out her arms, and it was far too easy to imagine her a few years younger, her face a bit rounder, the same old jacket looking even baggier over her shoulders, just concealing her uniform. “I turned around and became exactly like the people wrecked my life through elementary and middle school. And once I started, I didn’t even think twice about it. I turned into a tyrant, even though I knew what it would do to everyone else around me.”

Kamiyama High hadn’t had those sorts of issues—it wasn’t to say the place had been perfect, but Fukube knew they didn’t really have a bullying problem. Smaller isolated incidents that involved a few people, normally worked out thanks to reports by well-intentioned students and strict teachers. It was a response befitting of the environment around them.

Suzuki’s high school had been different. It may have looked similar from the outside, but it was a different world, where it was easier to get away with using force to get what you wanted. Or maybe Suzuki had been good enough to escape notice by the faculty. She had gone from a target to the one on top of the bullying structure in a short period of time.

A tyrant.

_A lonely ruler._

“Did Jing Hua give you some idealized version of the story when she told you?” Suzuki asked as she continued, staring Fukube down with such an intensity that he couldn’t look away. “About how I did all the awful things for her sake—how I wouldn’t have done them if she wasn’t in danger? That’s how she is; she wants to make it sound like I wasn’t a problem, like I didn’t pick targets and let other people have their way, so long as it didn’t oppose me. She pretends that I wasn’t so self-centered, that if I actually gave a damn about _protecting_ anyone, I would’ve knocked around the idiots bullying anyone and put a _stop _to it!’” Suzuki’s fist slammed into the table, making it shake. For the first time Fukube remembered, her head hung low, and he couldn’t see her face through the thick bangs hanging in the way. “I didn’t even start doing it for her. It was because I was tired of taking shit, because I was scared and didn’t want to get hurt anymore. It was for _myself_.”

Fukube gave her a moment, wondering if the pause would do any good. Surely, after spilling something like that out loud, rather than bottling it up inside, she needed a moment to process what had just come out. It felt uncomfortable drawing a conclusion on his own rather than breaking into a preset answer based on social expectations, but if Suzuki thought he was capable of making those decisions, he would try.

“Hasegawa-san,” Fukube said, after he couldn’t take the silence that stretched out for what had to be a few minutes, “didn’t tell me anything like that.”

Suzuki scoffed. “Bullshit.” She drew herself back up, looking as stubborn and strong-willed as ever. “That’s how she always tells it. Hell, she tries to tell _me_ that, even though she knows better. There’s no way she wouldn’t sell it that way to you.”

“Hasegawa-san didn’t.”

“In case you haven’t guessed, I’m not in the mood for anyone to mess with me—not even you.” Fukube suspected the only reason Suzuki wasn’t shouting was because they were in a public place, where someone could easily burst in and demand an explanation. “You don’t need to cover for Jing Hua’s nonsense, I _heard _you talking.”

“Well you didn’t listen to all of it,” Fukube said, impressed by the stern edge in his voice, “because if you did, you would know that Hasegawa-san didn’t have to tell me the story, because _I already knew._”

The words left him like a gale, and Fukube very much felt like the secret had been propping him up for the past few months, and now he was nothing more than a deflated balloon, a wilted flower, weak and insubstantial and about to fall over. Suzuki gaped at him, her expression holding the same level of astonishment as the time she’d guessed that Fukube was at their university because of his utter lack of academic capability for entrance exams. “What—? _You—_”

“I already knew,” he repeated, finishing the sentence for her. “I looked into you, remember? I even told you that I knew you’d been bullied in elementary and middle school, Suzuki-san. If I went that far back, did you really think I stopped there? Of course, I knew about what you did in high school. Maybe not all the details, but I got the gist of it.” He pressed a palm to his chest. “I _am_ a database, after all. What kind of information source would I be if I didn’t even know that much?”

“That’s not something to go and look so proud over!” Suzuki caught her voice raising and pulled back. Both of her fists were pressed up against the table, her knuckles losing color as she gripped her fists tight. “What kind of idiot are you, coming around me if you knew that? You—you even asked me on a date. What were you even thinking? I know that precious Ibara-san of yours wasn’t like me in high school; you couldn’t have seriously been mistaking me for her at that point.”

Fukube shook his head. “Like I said, I figured out you were different pretty quickly.”

“That’s not a real answer.” Suzuki glowered at him from across the table, but Fukube was long past feeling concerned. He could tell, sitting in front of her, that all of Suzuki’s anger was a coverup for a pool of hurt settled deep inside her, one that had been festering for years, since high school, if not sooner. “Why in the world did you agree to be there if you knew what kind of person I was?”

“Because who you were doesn’t tell me who you are.” Suzuki opened her mouth, but Fukube pressed forward before she could get another word out. “Suzuki-san, you’re not the same person you were in high school. Just like I’m not the same, and Houtarou isn’t the same. We’ve grown. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, but I know you’re different.”

“You don’t know—”

“You made me face myself and my insecurities, Suzuki-san,” Fukube said, meeting her with a serene smile. “It’s only fair that I help you go the other way around.”

* * *

Her last retort dead on her tongue, Suzuki watched Fukube, trying to figure out just what the hell was even going on in his mind. He had known about her the whole time and had gone on acting like it wasn’t a problem. Had let her into his life, had sought out her company. Had agreed to be there, as her partner, as someone who would stand by her side.

_I’m not going anywhere, Akiko-chan! I’ll be right by your side, aru._

_I’m supposed to be there, remember? I figured it wasn’t so hard._

“You’re way too much like Jing Hua for your own good,” Suzuki said, straightening back up in her seat. The base of her ponytail pressed uncomfortably between her next and the cheap upholstery. Fukube didn’t respond to the comment, just watching with a sad yet determined sort of smile. He wasn’t likely to back down, no matter how much Suzuki wanted to break a fresh retreat and just _run_. “Alright, you thought I would be different. If it’s so important for me to face myself, why didn’t you say anything before?”

Fukube kept his small smile on, but the light in his eyes shifted, making him look awkward, that same stupid expression from when he didn’t have the right answer to questions about his homework. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it.”

Suzuki let out a fresh snort. “Because I clearly want to talk about it now,” she said, her voice deadpan. She could smell Jing Hua’s influence from a mile away, but she didn’t call Fukube out. _You were wrong about her telling him, weren’t you?_

Why couldn’t this whole mess just go away?

“You’re right in that this probably seems like I’m forcing the topic on you,” Fukube said, giving up ground way too easily. “And before I let it go because, like I said, you didn’t seem to want to talk about it. And the nice guy thing to do would be to respect that. But you know, Suzuki-san—” He lowered his head, tips of his ears tinting pink, and Suzuki thought he sounded somewhat embarrassed “—I want to get to know you better and have you trust me. So I want to help you through this, too.

“Besides, before I was just doing what I thought I should do. But after I thought it through and talked to Hasegawa-san a little, I decided that ‘being here’ means I don’t let you make the same mistakes I did at trying to run away.”

Two feelings stirred inside Suzuki: the annoyance that Fukube was choosing this particular issue to grow a backbone over, and pride that he’d finally decided to start thinking for himself.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Suzuki said, not meaning it. She was just so, so tired. _Why won’t you stop running, then?_ “But okay, fine. You want to help? What’s you plan, then?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet.” Fukube hesitated a moment, but then he reached out his hands, his smooth fingers tracing over her knuckles. She didn’t accept the offer to hold onto him, but she did release some of the pressure from her fists, blood rushing back into the strained joints. “To be honest, there probably isn’t some miracle solution for this. I can’t fix the problems by just saying the right thing. You’re going to need to struggle through that on your own.” Suzuki grimaced at the thought, but she knew it was true. Fukube leaned towards her in support, but the table managed to get in the way of him coming too close. He pressed his palms closer instead. “But I’ll be here, okay? I’ll listen, and I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I mean, you’re way better at figuring out answers than I am.”

Suzuki let out a laugh that was more breath than sound. “You’re not getting out of thinking for yourself that easily.”

Fukube smiled, the expression finally giving way to a bit of mirth. “I’m not trying that. I’m just saying I’m not going to give you answers you can think through on your own.”

“Quoting my own lines back at me, huh?” Their eyes met across the table, Fukube’s that bright orange that still held fragments of hesitation, but not enough to make his words lies. Suzuki thought about it for a moment, then slowly spread her hands out, the backs pressing against the table, with Fukube’s open palms resting on top of hers. “If I start spilling my guts to you now, we’ll stay up all night, and then we’ll never make it to school in the morning.”

“You can afford to play hooky, you know.” Suzuki couldn’t contain her grimace from the thought, and Fukube laughed, intertwining their fingers together and tugging her up onto her feet. “Funny how a delinquent like you had a perfect attendance record.”

“Oh, shut it.” It would’ve been so easy to kick at him from under the table, but they were both already standing up, and something impossibly light was stirring in her heart at the idea of shedding some of the weight that had bogged it down for so long. “But, fine, I’ll bite. I’ll be sure to blame you if I get in trouble for skipping class, though.”

“I’m more than willing to take that blame.” Fukube squeezed her fingers again before freeing one of her hands. And though it took away some of the warmth, the one point of connection between them was enough. “This place is a bit cramped for two people, though. You wanna come over to my place?”

Suzuki raised an eyebrow. “That’s gonna be a long walk back.” She didn’t know Fukube’s address, but he had mentioned the general area before. “I know I can make it, even if I’m tired, but I dunno if you’ll survive that.” She looked over Fukube again, brow furrowing. “How did you even make it out here? I’m pretty sure the trains stopped by the time you showed up.”

Puffing up in unnecessary pride, Fukube flashed a thumbs up. “I borrowed Houtarou’s bike.”

Damn, now she was going to end up owing Oreki. Trying not to let her displeasure show, Suzuki leaned down to grab her backpack from the ground and slung it over her shoulder as she stood up. “Whatever. We’ll make it work.” She stepped towards the door, Fukube shortly following behind her once he realized she was on the way out. “How confident do you feel in keeping your balance while riding on the back?”

“Suzuki-san, that’s not safe. Or legal.”

And when Suzuki let out a chuckle, she flashed Fukube the kind of smile she knew would get him flustered all over again. “Trust me, Fukube. Once I’m done venting to you about all my fuckups, you’ll wonder why you even worried about something like that in the first place.”

* * *

The day had been a long one, but Hasegawa found that, if nothing else, concentration came much easier than it had the day before. Sometime in the middle of the night, she’d gotten a message from Fukube, letting him know Akiko was secure. While the short line of text hadn’t given too much detail, Hasegawa had a pretty good idea of how things were going, and she’d been more than content to wait on the sidelines.

And with that bit of reassurance in place, working on her school assignments had been simple enough. If Akiko was going to skip classes, at least one of them needed to be a good student. It was just like high school, really.

So Hasegawa worked, managing to make up for her lack of focus the day before and getting to a point where she felt comfortable with handling the rest of her workload for the week, even though she’d be spending Saturday on the train back home. There was even enough time for her to get up, stretch her legs, and go pick up some groceries before working on preparing dinner.

The sound of the apartment door unlocking made it into the kitchen, and Hasegawa smiled.

“Welcome home, Akiko-chan.”

“I’m home.”

* * *

Friday, June 1

* * *

The wind raced past Suzuki as she sprinted, leaving heavy footfalls against the track, the familiar sensation under her shoes somehow different than all the times she’d gone running before. The heat and humidity had gotten bad enough that she’d relinquished her jacket to Jing Hua for the time being, just so she could run without the added discomfort getting in the way. The wind brushed over not just the skin of her legs, but also her exposed arms, leaving a fresh tingle in her skin. If it weren’t for the unrelenting sun overhead, she would have gotten goosebumps.

For so long, the running had been a rhythm: one that consisted of taking breaths at the right time, moving her arms in legs in a sort of tandem that would collapse if she slipped up into one misstep, a mistake that would let everything in the past catch up with her, drag her down, pull her back into the anger and twisted emotions that had overwhelmed her during high school. And _oh_, how Suzuki had always been good at running away from her feelings, from the consequences, from anything.

But, at the beginning of that June, it felt different. Suzuki wasn’t trying to outrun anything anymore. Talking things out with Fukube hadn’t been a magical cure, but it had pulled some of the things she’d desperately wanted to escape up to the present, where she could almost hold hands with them and drag them along for the ride until she worked through the issues, let them properly work through her system.

The starting point of the track came into view as Suzuki rounded the corner, and she could see Jing Hua and Fukube sitting on the closest bench, an audience of two. It had been Jing Hua’s idea to turn Suzuki running into a little show, as if it would be any fun as a group activity. Suzuki had protested, but then Fukube had supported the idea, and Jing Hua had gone off on a little victory dance, and that was that. So Suzuki scoffed, laced up her shoes, and decided she was going to sprint for as long as she possibly could, just to see how long they put up with it.

Suzuki had long lost track of the number of laps she’d taken, but neither of her observers seemed the slightest bit bored as she passed, so she geared up for another round and went for it, the wind still kissing her skin and whipping her ponytail up into a frenzy.

Her legs only gave the faint pangs of protest of a workout well done, but they didn’t give up on her, carrying her forward, one rapid, pounding step at a time.

For once, Suzuki thought she just might be running towards the future, instead of away from the past.

It was a silly, idealistic thought—one so ridiculous enough that it pulled a chuckle right out of her throat, even in the middle of her perfectly timed, perfectly deep breaths. It was a crack in the rhythm, but she didn’t immediately fall onto her face, didn’t immediately screw everything up. It was just a little hiccup, a single beat different from the rest, and then it was back to the usual. The burn was still in her legs, the wind was still whipping over her skin, and _nothing was broken._

How long had she been so afraid of shattering things to pieces that she’d stopped even taking risks?

_Okay, so, the future then._ It was coming, whether she liked it or not. But, for once, that didn’t seem like an awful thing. Even if she didn’t know what the path ahead looked like, wasn’t it supposed to be the journey that mattered? Suzuki repressed her snort, shaking her head instead. _You’re getting way too sentimental._

Yes, the future would come. Yes, all that sort of nonsense about infinite possibility or whatever. It didn’t matter in the slightest.

Because, ultimately, she’d be the one that could imagine the version of herself she wanted to be, picture it hard enough that it just might one day be a reality.

And, for the time being, that thought was enough.


End file.
